


Trust This. Trust Me.

by ownedbythestars (ljrvs)



Series: Linked by the Universe [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abuse, Academy Era, Action/Adventure, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Jessika Pava, BAMF Poe Dameron, Backstory, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development, Character Study, Child Abuse, Escape, Friendship, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Jessika Pava Needs A Hug, Jessika Pava has a Past, Linked By The Universe, Major Character Injury, Male-Female Friendship, Mentions of Slavery, NRDF, Past Child Abuse, Pilot Jessika Pava, Pilot Poe Dameron, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Protective Poe Dameron, Rescue, Series, Slavery, Strong Female Characters, Torture, Whump, Women Being Awesome, X-Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 104,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27382507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ljrvs/pseuds/ownedbythestars
Summary: “I wish you could trust this," Poe said, indicating between the two of them. "That you could trust me."Jess’s response was immediate: “I trust you with my life. I’m just…not so sure about the details.”And that was enough for Poe. For now. Because he was sure that if she wanted him to know, she would tell him…eventually.--or--Poe knew exactly 10 things with absolute confidence about Jessika Pava. Technically he knew more about her, but that was mostly assumption, conjecture, and guesswork.But that was ok with Poe. Because that meant that getting to know Jessika Pava and her past was a lot like solving a puzzle. And he loved puzzles.
Relationships: Jessika Pava/Original Male Character(s), Poe Dameron & Jessika Pava, Poe Dameron & Muran, Poe Dameron/Muran
Series: Linked by the Universe [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1658350
Comments: 81
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

29 ABY

It had been nearly two years since Admiral Wedge Antilles had put Poe Dameron in charge of the specialized in-flight training of Jessika Pava. And by Poe’s calculations, the two of them had clocked over 2000 hours of flight simulation, actual space flights, and ship maintenance together. Plus there had been that one mission to Dandoran. And since for the vast majority of the past two years it had just been the two of them, Poe knew that they had had nearly 2000 hours of one-on-one interaction.

And what did he know for certain about Jessika Pava from all of that time?

He knew exactly 10 things:

  1. He knew she was from Dandoran.
  2. He knew her family had died when she was young.
  3. He knew she and Antilles had a weird relationship and that she was at the Academy due to a deal they’d made so that she didn’t get sent to prison (it was a thing).
  4. He knew she had raced illegally (it was why the Academy/Prison thing even existed).
  5. He knew she could fix almost anything on her X-Wing, even if she didn’t have the right parts or tools.
  6. He knew she started at the Academy with better skills than most third-year Academy Cadets.
  7. He knew she was extremely smart and had a razor-sharp wit and a wicked sense of humor.
  8. He knew she was obsessed with holovids—especially the ones about the Rebellion and Luke Skywalker.
  9. He knew that he and Niv Lek were the only people she let call her Jess or J or Jessika rather than Pava.
  10. And he knew she liked caf. A lot. Addicted wouldn’t be a wrong interpretation.



And…that was it.

It wasn't that he didn’t _know_ other things about her. But those were the ten things he knew with confidence.

Everything else he had gathered through slips in conversations or experiences.

Like the fact that she never used the word ‘Sir’. They’d been flying together for almost five months when Poe realized he had never heard Jess call anyone ‘Sir’, Antilles and himself included.

He’d asked her about it once, but she’d deflected.

_They were working on an S-Foil on one of the practice X-Wings when it hit him._

_“You never call me ‘Sir’, do you? Actually…I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call anyone ‘Sir.’ Have I?”_

_“Is that a problem?”_

_“No, I just realized it. You call me ‘Boss’ and you call Antilles ‘Admiral’, but never Sir. Why?”_

_“I don’t have great associations with the word ‘Sir.’ I would rather not connect those to you,” Jess told him, her hands still deep inside the ship. Her non-answer wasn’t a surprise. Poe had gotten used to Jess’s vague replies over the past two years. There were just some mysteries that he couldn’t unravel about the young pilot._

_“What kind of associations?”_

_Jess stopped what she was doing and looked Poe in the eye. “I’m telling you, there’s a lot of baggage with that one, Dameron. You sure you’re ready for that?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. Poe didn’t respond. The look in her eye made him second guess if he even wanted an answer to his question. After a minute passed, Jess gave a slow nod. “I didn’t think so.” She turned her attention back to the S-Foil. “Hand me that spanner.”_

It wasn’t the first or the only time she had sidestepped a question, but it was one of the more memorable ones. She had a talent for obfuscating—she could talk without saying anything—well, without saying anything intelligible, meaningful, or understandable.

Poe also knew she didn’t like being called “Girl.” Technically, Karé Kun had been the one to find that out, but Poe had taken note of it. 

_Karé, Muran, and Iolo had joined them for a training run to get Jess more comfortable with flying in formations with a full squadron. Poe had been fiddling with the available SIMs to make them more challenging for Pava, so it was a new run for the other pilots as well. His most recent creation was based on Staklo—a planet with minimal atmosphere and no sentient life but filled with ancient glass formations._

_The Staklo Modified SIM was, In Poe’s opinion, a masterpiece. The glass created high plateaus, narrow canyons with sharp turns, steep cliffs, mirrored walls, and jagged peaks. This SIM required the pilots to be hyper-aware of their surroundings and to be completely in control of their ships: if a pilot crashed an X-Wing into the glass, microscopic fragments would be sucked into the engines, shutting off their X-Wing and ending the SIM mission in failure. Plus, when the light from the red gas giant shone through the glass, the formations acted like prisms and would refract the light, throwing glittering spectrums in all directions. The reflected colors and light dazzled human eyes and cast disorienting reflections that only Arana’s Keshian eyes could detect before it was too late. The entire SIM would require expert flying and continuous communication between the pilots. Poe was certain that it would be a great course to test Jess’s teamwork skills on._

_“Pava, two rogues on your six!” Karé called._

_“I see ‘em,” Jess muttered back before throwing her ship into a tight corkscrew. “Arana, how’s that opening look? Can I thread it?” she asked. Poe grinned—her voice was far too casual for someone who was spinning while traveling hundreds of kilometers an hour._

_“Two seconds.” Iolo took out the ship he’d been pursuing before looking towards Jess and the opening she was talking about. “You’re good,” he responded. “You’ll need to pull up once you’re through, though. Solid wall about 200 meters in, but it’s nearly perfect glass—totally transparent.”_

_“Got it,” Jess said._

_“You’re gonna clip it, Pava,” Muran warned._

_“Watch me,” Jess said. Poe could hear the smile in her voice. She tightened her corkscrew even further until she was in a heartline roll. She was growing dangerously close to the opening._

_Two more ships exploded above Poe. “Two more down. Those two bogies on Pava are the last in the SIM,” Karé reported._

_"I’ve got them!” Jess said through gritted teeth._

_“Pava, you’re not gonna make it,” Poe said. He prepared himself for the explosion and for the SIM to alert him of her demise, but at the last moment, Jess closed her S-Foils and straightened out her ship, neatly threading the gap in the glass wall. The final two enemy combatants slammed into the glass and exploded into balls of fire._

_Jess’s ship, though, didn’t reappear as expected._

_“Pava, report,” Poe said. There wasn’t a response. “Arana, you see anything?” he asked. He swiped his console screen to the SIM stats: Jess was still shown as active in the mission._

_“Nope. She didn’t hit anything. Maybe she got turned around in a tunnel?” Iolo suggested._

_Seconds later, Jess’s X-Wing came sailing up over the wall and back to the squadron._

_“Made you look,” Jess crowed._

_“Woohoo! That’s some flying!” Iolo cheered._

_“Nicely done, Pava,” Muran said._

_“You teach her that, Dameron?” Karé asked._

_Poe laughed. “Alright. Alright,” he said. “I’m shutting the SIM down.”_

_The SIM pods went dark and lowered back to the ground._

_Karé grinned as their canopies popped open. “Girl, that was sick!” she called across the lab._

_The smile fell from Jess’s face. “Don’t call me that,” she said darkly. She didn’t return Karé’s grin or acknowledge the compliment at all._

_“What?”_

_“’Girl,’” Jess said with disdain. “Don’t call me that.”_

_“Oh, sorry,” Karé quickly apologized. “But still—sick!”_

_“Thanks,” Jess said flatly before she turned and left the lab._

_“What the hell was that?” Karé asked._

_Poe didn’t answer—he didn’t know._

Karé wasn’t Jess’s biggest fan after that. She wasn’t too proud to apologize—she never intentionally offended or hurt someone and always tried to make amends when she did—but she hated when people wouldn’t tell her what she’d done wrong so she wouldn’t do it again.

 _“I’m not a Jedi, for kriff’s sake. I can’t read her mind! I tried to apologize: I told her I’d never call her ‘Girl’ again, but she just walked away. So she’ll have to tell me what I did to offend her,”_ Karé told Poe. Apparently, she had tried to talk to Jess in the mess to apologize and the younger pilot had barely acknowledged her. And Karé wasn’t the type to grovel for Jess’s acceptance when Jess wouldn’t even talk to her. The two women were civil when they had to work together, but neither sought the other out.

There was also the tattoo on her forearm. Poe had caught a couple of glimpses of it over the last two years, but never saw enough of it to really know what it was. He remembered the first time he’d seen it, though. 

_At the end of her first year, Poe had taken Jess out to get a drink to celebrate. Muran joined them and the two Rapier Squadron pilots decided to teach Jess a Yavinese drinking game. Calling it a game was generous because it wasn’t so much a game as it was a complicated series of rules and clauses that involved dice and a sabacc deck and the singular goal of getting all of the players as drunk as possible. The game didn’t have a clear winner—but it always had an obvious loser. Jess had lost the first two rounds in spectacular fashion and claimed that Poe was changing the rules each round. Muran grinned and Poe didn’t deny the accusation. After the first two drinks, Jess took off her jacket and pushed her sleeves up, giving Poe a look at her arm._

_“Hey, what’s on your arm?” Poe asked._

_“Nothing,” Jess quickly pushed her sleeve back down. She scowled, her good mood seemed to falter._

_“Jessika Pava, do you have a tattoo?” Poe grinned._

_“It’s stupid,” Jess said. “So who drinks if Muran rolls a 7 and I play a Stave? Is that you?”_

_“Show me,” Poe pushed. He hadn’t ever pushed Jess to tell him more than she wanted to before, and he later blamed his insistence on the alcohol—not that he thought that ‘being buzzed’ was actually a good excuse._

_“No,” Jess said firmly._

_“Come on.”_

_“Let it go, Dameron,” Muran said, picking up quickly on Jess’s warning tone._

_Poe ignored Muran. “It’s something embarrassing, isn’t it? Teenage rebellion? Show me!” he reached for her sleeve. Before he had even touched her, Jess had grabbed his wrist and wrenched it away before she kicked his feet out from under him. Poe landed hard on his back, flat on the ground._

_“I said no. Now back off,” Jess said dangerously. Poe could practically see the durasteel walls go up behind her eyes, keeping him out._

_“Whoa. Okay. Sorry,” Poe held up his hands placatingly. He knew he’d hit a nerve._

_“Whatever. I’m out of here,” Jess muttered and grabbed her jacket before leaving the bar._

_“Nice going, Dameron,” Muran sighed and helped Poe to his feet._

_“What’d I say?” Poe asked, watching as Jess left the bar._

_He never asked her about the tattoo again. The handful of other times he’d seen it, it barely registered before Jess covered it up again. Poe had seen a similar tattoo before, but he couldn’t place it, and Jess certainly wasn’t going to tell him any more about it._

There were other things he knew about her, too.

Like he knew that she was excellent at hand-to-hand combat. The one and only time they had sparred, Jess had handedly kicked his ass before telling him he wasn’t enough of a challenge for her.

Or, that he knew that she hated when people snuck up on her. Everyone knew that one, though, after she had nearly broken a fellow cadet’s arm after he grabbed her shoulder from behind without warning.

And about her chronic disregard for authority. Antilles was the most notable exception to that, but she had warmed to some of the other members of the NRDF Command. She listened to Poe, too. Usually. How she’d survived this long in the NRDF was a bit of a mystery to Poe.

He’d also seen the pin on her desk for The Return Project, which was a New Republic initiative to reconnect or find answers for families who had been separated by the Empire, slave trade, or otherwise. The Academy required 20 volunteer hours from their cadets each semester, and so a lot of cadets had worked with The Return Project over the years. Poe had done some of his volunteer time there, too. It was needed help: even 25 years after the Empire’s defeat, families all over the galaxy were still searching for answers about missing loved ones. Not all volunteers got a pin, though. Poe knew that those pins were only given out to volunteers with over 200 hours of service given to the organization.

Of course, he knew about her need to be in control. She didn’t let anyone do her pre-flight checks. She barely let the groundcrew do maintenance on her X-Wing and really only let them do it if it was impossible for her to make the time to do it herself. He’d never seen her drink to the point of drunk—which was saying something considering she hung out with pilots. She was always aware of her surroundings and always had a Go-Bag ready in her room. It seemed like she was always prepared for something to happen—for the ground to disappear from beneath her boots without warning.

Poe saw other things about her, too. Like how she never really joined a group. She always seemed to stay on the fringe and never formed attachments. She was loyal, but distant: like she was scared of getting too close to anyone. He could tell that she walked a tightrope of wanting to connect with people, but also wanting to keep them at arm’s length. It was like she needed to keep herself safe behind the durasteel walls she had carefully built in her mind.

And maybe most surprisingly, at least to everyone else, Poe had noticed that Jess always tried to be kind. Shara Bey had taught Poe from birth that there was a difference between ‘nice’ and ‘kind’, and Jessika Pava definitely wasn’t what most people would consider ‘nice’. It wasn’t that she was cruel or intentionally mean, but she certainly wasn’t mindlessly compliant or pleasant, and she didn’t give a damn about how well liked she was by others. No, Jess wasn’t nice, but she was deeply kind.

Other people didn’t see that, though. Jess projected a prickly protective shell around herself at all times. Before meeting Poe, Niv Lek had been the only person at the Academy that Jess had any kind of relationship with (aside from Antilles—if he counted). Poe wasn’t sure how Lek had managed to crack Jess’s protective shell, but he was one of the few people in the galaxy that he knew Jess called a friend.

Since arriving at the Academy, Jess had been reserved and hadn’t let people see her emotions easily. What she did let people see was that she was tough and stubborn and expected the best from herself at all times. Poe knew that other pilots assumed she was aloof or standoffish, maybe even disinterested in them because of these qualities, but Poe was pretty sure they came from something else. He was also pretty sure that whatever was going on between Pava and Kun stemmed from Jess misunderstanding Karé’s intentions and Karé assuming too much from Jess’s behavior. But that wasn’t an argument he was ready to have with Karé.

Especially when he didn’t know what that ‘something else’ could be.

So maybe he actually knew more than 10 things about Jessika Pava. But most of the other things weren’t concrete. They were feelings or behaviors, but lacked context and therefore lacked meaning.

All of that meant that after two years, Jess was still an enigma to him. For everything he knew about her, a dozen more questions popped up. But Poe was ok with that. Because that meant that figuring out Jess was like figuring out a puzzle. And he was _good_ at puzzles.

He just needed Jess to trust him enough to let him close enough to figure out the puzzle that was _Jess._

That was another thing Poe knew about Jess—trust was a hard thing for her to do. Poe had asked her while they were on their mission to Dandoran for her to allow him to earn her trust.

_“Why didn’t you tell me about your parents?” Poe asked._

_Jess didn’t look at him. “Didn’t seem important for you to know.” She kept her eyes trained out the window._

_“Of course it’s important for me to know. How can I look out for you if I don’t know what to look out for?”_

_“I don’t need you to look out for me. At least, not when we’re not in the cockpit,” Jess said with a wry grin. “I’ve been looking after myself for a long time.”_

_“You don’t have to anymore, you know,” Poe said._

_“Don’t have to what?”_

_“Look out for yourself.”_

_“Oh yeah?” Jess turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow._

_“Yeah.”_

_“And why is that?”_

_“Cause I’m here. And I’m your friend. I’ve got your back.”_

_“For now,” Jess murmured and looked back out the window. She slouched lower in her seat._

_Poe furrowed his brow. “What was that?”_

_“Nothing,” Jess shook her head._

_“Why don’t you trust me?” Poe asked._

_“Who says I don’t?” Jess replied._

_“You do. You won’t let me in enough for me to know how to look out for you. So what is it? What keeps you from trusting me?”_

_Jess shrugged uncomfortably. “Nothing. I’m just…prepared for you to cut bait.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Because that’s what happens—people leave when something better comes along.”_

_Realization dawned on Poe. “That’s why you keep people at a distance, isn’t it? You think they’ll abandon you.”_

_“Can’t get hurt if they can’t reach you,” Jess muttered._

_“Hey.” Poe reached across the cabin and put his hand on her shoulder. “I can reach you,” he grinned._

_Jess rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”_

_“I know. But even so, I’m not gonna do that to you. I’m not gonna abandon you.”_

_“That’s what they all say,” Jess sighed. “But I don’t blame them when they do.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because people come with expectations.”_

_“I don’t,” Poe said, trying to place his tone somewhere between honest and casual._

_“Yes, you do,” Jess said forcefully. She shrugged his hand off of her shoulder and turned to face him. “Everyone does. And when I can’t meet them…I get why they leave me behind.”_

_Anger flared in Poe’s chest. “You’re not disposable, Jess. And anyone who has ever done that to you has been wrong.”_

_Jess shrugged. “I’m not going to meet your expectations, Dameron. Maybe I’m meeting them right now, but at some point, I won’t anymore. And I will let you down. I know I will. And that will hurt you. So…it’s just easier to keep my distance.”_

_Poe frowned. “What makes you think you’ll let me down? Or hurt me?”_

_“Because that’s what I do,” Jess said and leaned her forehead against the window._

_“I don’t believe that.”_

_“I fail people. And because I fail them…they get hurt,” she said with a wave of her hand, her tone defeated._

_Poe looked at Jess. “It’s gotta be hard to let people in and let yourself build trust with them when you’ve already convinced yourself that you’re going to fail them,” he said softly. “But it’s gotta be harder to be alone.”_

_Jess hmm-ed noncommittally._

_“You won’t let me down or fail me.”_

_“You don’t know that.”_

_“The only thing I’ve ever expected from you is for you to do your best to be your best every day. And you’ve always done that for me. As long as you do that, you’ll never let me down.”_

_Jess huffed what might have been a laugh. “That’s Antilles’s line.”_

_Poe grinned. “It’s a good one.”_

_“You didn’t say that I wouldn’t hurt you. Cause you know that I might,” Jess pointed out._

_Poe sobered quickly. “Yeah. You might. But I might hurt you, too. I’d never want to, but it’s a possibility. Just like you: I don’t think you’d ever want to hurt me or do it intentionally, but it’s possible.” He paused, debating if he should continue or not. Eventually, he did. “I’m here for you, Pava. Jess. Whatever you want me to call you right now. And I’ve got your back. And I always will. Letdowns, failures, and hurts—let them come. Cause I’ll still be here.”_

_Jess raised her eyebrows and looked at him from the side of her eye. “We’ll see about that.”_

_"I'm...sorry...I guess..." Poe struggled to find the words he wanted to say to Jess._

_Jess gave a small shake of her head. "You don't need to apologize for anything. This," she gestured vaguely to herself, "isn't your fault and I'm not your responsibility to fix. I already have a psytech for that." Poe could hear the attempt at a joke, but it didn't quite land and they both knew it._

_“I wish you could trust this,” Poe said, indicating between the two of them. “That you could trust me.”_

_Jess’s response was immediate. She sat up straight and looked Poe in the eye for the first time since this conversation had started. “I trust you with my life. Every time we get into our cockpits, I know that you’ve got my back. Don’t doubt that I know that about you—don’t doubt if I trust you up there. I’m just…not so sure about the details. I’m not sure I can trust you with my heart.”_

_“I’m not asking you to trust me with the details right now,” Poe said. “And I’m not asking you to trust me with your heart. I’m just asking for the opportunity to earn them.”_

_Jess’s lips quirked. It wasn’t a smile, but it was closer than any other expression she’d shown. “I’ll think about it,” she said as she settled back into her seat and turned her attention out the window._

_"Hey, Jess?" Poe said after a while, breaking the silence that had fallen between them._

" _Yeah?" Jess answered without looking over._

_"I'm sorry about your family."_

_From where he was sitting, Poe could just see the profile of Jess’s face. She gave a sad smile. "Me, too,” she whispered._

_The silence fell between them again._

_The next time, it was Jess who broke the silence. "Hey, Poe?"_

_"Yeah?" He looked over at her, but she was resolutely looking out the window, avoiding his gaze._

_"Thanks." Jess’s voice was quiet like she wasn’t sure that her thanks would be welcomed by him._

_“Always,” Poe said. He wasn’t sure what she was thanking him for, but he knew that he meant it. He knew that whatever connection he had with this young woman meant that he would always be willing to do whatever he could for her._

_Jess took a deep breath. "And…I think I will trust you with the details...eventually."_

_Poe gave a small smile. “I can wait,” he whispered._

And that was enough for Poe. For now. Because he’d meant it: he could wait. He would wait as long as he needed to for Jess to be ready to trust him. And he was sure that when Jess decided she wanted him to know the details—when she decided to trust him with them—she _would_ tell him. Eventually.

That was the one other thing Poe knew with absolute certainty about Jessika Pava: she would do exactly what she wanted to do exactly when she was ready to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the newest installment of Linked by the Universe. So confession time: most of this story is written, but I couldn't figure out the first chapter. So I said that I would start posting this on November 1 to force myself to get the first chapter written, but I still couldn't get this chapter right. So here we are: it's four days late and this chapter is mostly background and set up, but I hope you like it! 
> 
> As always, comments are loved and responded to! 
> 
> Also, fun fact: a heartline roll is a roller coaster term. It's when the roll rotates on a single central axis so the height of the average rider's heart never changes. They're one of my favorite roller coaster features. Google it for video examples.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

He was late. He knew he was late. And Jess would know he was late, too.

 _She is gonna give me so much crap for this_ , he thought as he raced down the hall.

The door slid open as Poe rounded the corner, letting him into the lab. He slowed to a stop. It looked like it was empty. He breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe Jess was also running late. Maybe he’d beaten Jess here. And if _she_ was the one who was late, he could—

“You’re late,” Jess’s voice came from across the lab. Poe looked around for where she was hidden before his eyes landed on the farthest pot. He grinned: Jess was sitting sideways in the cockpit, scrolling through her datapad. She was slouched down low and with her knees bent over the lip of the mock-cockpit, her feet kicking the side of the pod.

“Shouldn’t you be waiting at attention for me?” Poe asked. He had no delusions that she would ever wait at attention for anyone less than Antilles or Wexley, but he wasn’t about to let her think he didn’t notice.

“Maybe,” Jess shrugged but didn’t look up at him. “Shouldn’t you have been on time?”

Poe rolled his eyes. “How long have you been here?” he asked, leaning against the pod’s support beam.

“Longer than you,” Jess smirked. “Where were you, anyway?”

“I was working on something,” Poe replied vaguely.

“Something more important than getting your ass kicked by me in a training SIM?”

Poe rolled his eyes. “SIM training is not some holovid game.”

“Sure it is. You’re just mad I got the high score last week.” She sat up and loosely wrapped her arms around her knees. “So why were you late? Let’s see…you didn’t train with Rapier today, and it’s too late for a lunch meeting. So…girlfriend? Boyfriend? Visiting diplomat? Extended physio training? No…you’re Poe Dameron, it’s gotta be bigger than that. Did Beebee-Ate malfunction? Crash an X-Wing?” Poe scoffed. “Sorry, did you want to say something?” Jess said with a grin.

“Oh, no. Please, continue. Far be it from me to interrupt your snark with the news that I signed us up for some recon and got us two _real ships_ for the rest of the afternoon.”

That got her attention. Jess’s eyes grew wide and she bit her lip.

“Serious?” Her excitement was tangible.

“Does this look like the face of someone who would ever joke about leaving atmo?” Poe asked, pointing at his face. “Please.”

“Real X-Wings? Not some crappy Y-Wing like last time?”

Poe chuckled. “Yeah, Jess. Real X-Wings. Older ones, but they fly.”

“T-65s?”

“Probably.”

Jess smiled broadly. “Ok, you’re forgiven for being late.”

“Let’s go,” Poe said with a nod of his head. Jess held her hands out to him. He sighed dramatically before he laughed and took her hands to pull her out of the pod. Poe grabbed her helmet from the nose of the pod and tossed it to Jess, who caught it and tucked it under her arm. She grabbed her bag from the desk and followed Poe out the door, practically vibrating with excitement.

One of Poe’s favorite things to do while training Pava was to get her extra time in space. He negotiated the training schedule as often as possible to get her in a real cockpit. If there were two free ships, Poe signed up to take them out. Officially, the training regimen that he and Antilles had designed for her only had them leave atmo once every other week, but anyone who had ever seen Jessika Pava fly a real starfighter knew that her feet were never meant to stay on the ground for that long. From the second she stepped into the hangar for her pre-flight inspection to the moment she touched back down, Jess was a different person. She was free in the sky like Poe had never seen her be on planet. In the sky, she was home.

Poe grinned as he watched Jess maneuver her ship through the black of space, taking her ship through lazy barrel rolls and bank turns as if to stretch her muscles. She threw her ship into a loop and rolled her ship upright at the top before she accelerated straight up and into a stall turn to get herself positioned back beside Poe.

“Having fun?” Poe asked.

“Always,” Jess replied. He could hear the smile in her voice. “So where we gonna go, Boss?”

“Mieru'kar sector. There have been some reports of some shady stuff going on out there and Command wanted someone to take a look. I said we’d go.”

“Why is Command sending me on a mission? I haven’t graduated yet.”

“It’s a fly-by. Barely counts. We’re just poking around, seeing if we see anything suspicious. Plus, Antilles worked it out so that they’re letting me call it part of your training. _And_ you get to spend the rest of the day in an X-Wing. Are you seriously getting hung up on the fact that Command is letting you go on a mission before you’re a graduate?”

“Not at all,” Jess said. Poe could hear her grin over the comm. “The Mieru'kar Sector, you said? That’s where the Hy'thor Group typically operates, right?” she asked.

Poe frowned. He knew Jess was well-read in galactic history, but he didn’t expect a small pirate crew to catch her attention. “You know about them?”

“Obviously. They’re pirates on the Outer Rim. Very cool.”

“You think all pirates are cool.”

“I know these ones are cool. This one time—” she cut herself off.

 _That was interesting,_ Poe thought. Jess did that sometimes: she’d start to say something, usually what seemed like it would be an anecdote, and then would quickly cut herself off before she shared anything personal.

Jess cleared her throat. “I mean…how do you wanna get there?”

“This is about your training. How would you get there?” Poe asked. If he was honest, this was the part about teaching Pava he disliked the most: letting her make the decisions without his influence. Usually, he knew what he wanted to do—what he thought would be the best thing to do, but when he was with Pava, he had to let her make decisions and then succeed or fail by following the calls she made. Antilles had told him that it was a good growth opportunity for him, but Poe disagreed.

Jess considered for a moment before responding. “I think we should take Hydian Way hyperlane out to Celanon Spur, then Veragi Trade Route. That’ll get us into the right sector quickly and safely.”

Poe grinned. Sometimes, though, she did exactly what he would have done. _Sometimes_ was becoming pretty common now—Jess was thinking like an NRDF pilot, not like an Outer Rim canyon racer. Specifically, she was starting to think like Poe. Norra Wexley had told Poe that she thought Pava now thought _too_ similarly to him and that it would get her in trouble, but Poe didn’t think that was likely. Because for as similarly as he knew the two of them thought, Poe also knew that Jess was a bit more pragmatic than him and was less likely to make a snap decision that she’d regret later. He chalked it up to her years of racing.

“Agreed,” Poe said.

“How much of the sector does Command want us to cover?” Jess asked.

“As much as we can.” 

Jess let out a low whistle. “That’s a lot of space for two pilots to cover in one afternoon.”

“What, worried you can’t handle it?” Poe teased.

“Just wondering if you can keep up,” Jess replied with a laugh.

BB-8 let out a string of beeps behind Poe. “Beebee-Ate says—”

“ _Pava Pilot faster. No Beebee-Ate. My Pilot better,”_ Jess translated. “Even your droid admits that I’m faster.”

“But I’m better.”

“Only because I don’t have a Beebee-Ate. I just have whatever standard training astromech was assigned to this ship.” The old C4 unit behind her warbled. “Sorry C4—didn’t mean you weren’t good. I’m sure you’re a great astromech. I’m happy to be flying with you.”

The C4 gave a disgruntled beep that Poe recognized as a droid insult. It didn’t have a great translation to basic, but it was widely known that it wasn’t a nice term.

“Touchy droid,” Jess muttered. 

“Your Binary is getting good,” Poe commented.

“Should hope so. It’s been months,” Jess said. “You got coordinates?”

“Why would I have them?”

“This is your training run—you planned it.”

“It’s your education,” Poe shot back, “you do them.”

“You mean you want me to run it through this old C4?” Jess asked skeptically. The droid gave another disgruntled beep from behind her. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean any offense,” she apologized to the droid.

“I didn’t say run them through the C4. I said I want _you_ to do them.”

“You want me to do jump math in an X-Wing cockpit and without a full nav computer?”

“Exactly.”

“Why?”

“I’ve seen you do it before. I know you can. Plus, we’ve gotta keep those skills sharp. Can’t let you get complacent with your nav computer or astromech,” Poe said wryly.

“My skills are always sharp,” Jess retorted.

“Send them to Beebee-Ate when you’re done and they’ll check them before we jump.”

“Roger that, Boss,” Jess replied before falling silent. She was quiet for much longer than Poe was used to.

Finally, he spoke. “How’s it going, Pava? We’ve gotta get out there if we’re gonna make it back tonight.”

“Done,” Jess replied as his screen beeped and a string of numbers ran across it. “Looks like we’ll have to drop out at a couple of hyper points to update the math and adjust our heading to get us out towards the Mieru'kar sector. But it should be a pretty easy flight. Beebee-Ate,” she said to the droid, “how’s my math?”

BB-8 let out an approving beep. Poe was pretty sure that if they hadn’t been in their ships, the droid would have used their lighter to give Jess a thumbs up. 

“Good,” Jess laughed. “Alright then. Beebee-Ate approves the math, the jump is plugged in and I’m ready to go. How you doing?”

“Also ready. You go first and wait for me at the hyper point to adjust.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” Jess replied.

“Punch it,” Poe said. He waited until he saw Jess’s ship snap out of real space before he engaged his hyperdrive and followed her into hyperspace.

A bright initial flash of white light from the jump filled the cockpit before it was replaced by the soft blue glow of hyperspace. Poe shifted in his seat to a more comfortable position. Hyperspace had always been soothing to him. Space was a quiet place by nature, but it somehow felt different in hyperspace. The silence of hyperspace was more comfortable, Poe thought. Comms didn’t work, scanners wouldn’t pick anything up, and there wasn’t a battle raging around him. The only sound that didn’t come from him was the hum of the engines. He leaned his head back against the headrest: being out in the black reminded him of learning to fly with his mother when he was a child. Sometimes, he could still feel her hands on his, guiding him.

Poe sighed. Thinking about his mom made him think of his dad. And thinking about Kes…well, thinking about Kes brought up a whole lot of complicated emotions. And having complicated emotions while in the cockpit of an X-Wing in hyperspace was highly unfair. Because in a cockpit in hyperspace, he couldn’t run away from them. It wasn’t that he and his father had a bad relationship. Their relationship was better now than it had been in years. And Poe loved his father. But Kes—Kes would have given anything for his son to not be a pilot. It had been a contentious point in their relationship ever since Shara died. Contentious enough that Poe had run away from Yavin IV and made some admittedly terrible and teenage decisions. Things had gotten better after he’d come back home, but Poe still felt guilty about what he’d put his father through. That guilt wasn’t strong enough to completely overshadow his anger or regret. Or love. But it just made it all…complicated.

Whatever he felt about his relationship with Kes didn’t change the fact that Poe loved flying. And it had been the most solidifying thing he’d had to create a working relationship with Jessika Pava. It was why she had any level of trust for him at all, however minimal it might be. Because for as distant as she tried to keep herself from him, they seemed to find the most common ground when there was no ground beneath them. 

The first three hyper point adjustments went perfectly—Jess’s math was spot on every time and her entries and exits from hyperspace were textbook. The final adjustment, though, did not go as well. If Poe had to scale how it went, it went about as badly as it could go.

“Fuck.” Poe heard Jess swear the second he dropped out of hyperspace. He looked around—they had dropped into what looked like the middle of an asteroid field. Immediately, though, Poe could tell something was wrong. In a typical asteroid field, the asteroids hung in space, stationary for the most part. But not here. Poe squinted his eyes: the asteroids were moving. 

“What the hell?” Poe muttered. “What is this?”

“ _Fuuuck_ ,” he heard Jess swear again, more emphatically this time. He glanced over to see Jess push her ship into a sharp dive to avoid a large asteroid.

BB-8 let out a shrill squeal, bringing Poe’s attention back to his ship. And just in time. Poe banked hard to the left to avoid another enormous rock.

“Kriff, this shouldn’t be here,” Poe hissed as small pieces of asteroid battered his cockpit.

“It wasn’t on the map,” Jess said defensively. “There weren’t any asteroid fields anywhere near here.”

“I know, Pava. Bee would have caught it if there were. Doesn’t change the fact that we need to get out of here. Get clear of the field and calculate a jump back onto the Veragi Route. Open your S-Foils for better maneuverability,” Poe ordered.

“Shields up?” Jess asked.

“No, don’t waste the energy, they won’t make a difference. It’s stone, not energy or plasma bolts. These older shields are useless against this kind of stuff.”

“Roger that, Boss,” Jess said and started to maneuver her ship out of the asteroid field.

Poe tried to keep an eye on Jess but found quickly that he had to focus entirely on his ship to keep himself from hitting an asteroid. He trusted Jess to keep herself safe and knew she had the ability, skill, and instinct to do so. Plus, she would be ticked if she thought he didn’t think she could handle herself.

“Shit,” Jess swore again. “Why are they moving like that? Typical physics in space shouldn’t let that happen!”

“Basic physics of everywhere, Pava: a body in motion stays in motion,” Poe replied as he dodged around another piece of rock.

“In that case, these asteroids are behaving like someone just blew through here in a cruiser and knocked everything around to ricochet off of eac— _KRIFF,”_ Jess cut herself off. A large piece of asteroid flew towards her and hit behind the cockpit. Poe winced. He could hear the impact over the comm.

“Pava—you good?” Poe asked, trying to hide his concern.

“I’m alive, if that’s the question,” Jess replied tensely. “It hit something, but…I don’t know what. I can’t see it and C4 isn’t responding.”

“Any damage readings?”

There was a pause. “No. I think I’m good.”

“Ok, let’s keep going. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

They were nearing the edge of the field when out of the corner of his eye, Poe saw a large asteroid moving quickly towards Jess’s ship.

“Pava, look out!” Dameron shouted. Jess didn’t have time or space to maneuver away from the large chunk of rock coming at her. Poe clenched his jaw, praying he wouldn’t see Jess’s ship collide with the asteroid.

Jess fired her canons, destroying the large asteroid careening towards her. It exploded into millions of pieces of rubble, shattering around jess as she flew through where the asteroid used to be. Poe let out a sigh of relief when Jess soared away from the scattered debris.

One of the larger pieces of the destroyed asteroid ricocheted off of another large piece of the asteroid and flew straight at Poe’s ship. “Shit, Dameron—look out!” Jess yelled.

But she was too late. The asteroid collided with the stabilizer on Poe’s right wing, rocking his ship.

“Damnit,” Poe hissed.

“You ok?”

“Not dead, but I’ll be better when we’re out of here. Keep going!” Poe ordered.

“With pleasure,” Jess said, corkscrewing her way through the debris. They picked their way out of the last 100 meters of the asteroid field, managing to avoid any further damage to their ships.

“Pava, sitrep,” Poe ordered once they were well clear of the debris.

“I’m still not getting any readings from the C4. I think they took a pretty bad hit, so the connection might be loose or something. The rest of the ship seems alright, though. You?” Jess replied.

“I took a hit, too. I’m getting some off readings. Are you ok?”

“I’m good, boss. What kind of readings are you getting?” Jess asked. Poe knew her mind was already running through all of the possibilities of what damage he could have sustained and what repair equipment they had with them.

“Looks like a stabilizer took the brunt of it.”

“What’s going on?”

“I can’t close my S-Foils.”

“So you can’t jump.”

“Right. And Beebee-Ate can’t bypass it, so we’ll need to land to check it out. Let you get your hands on it.”

“Roger that,” Jess replied. “Where do you want to touch down? There’s not much out here and we don’t have any atmo gear with us.”

“There’s a terrestrial planet in the Iban system. It’s only a couple of parsecs from here.”

“Can you get there?”

“Yeah, looks like. The damage isn’t affecting life support and nothing’s smoking, so I think I’m ok,” Poe said. A series of beeps came over the comm. “Beebee-Ate agrees.”

“Your call, Boss.”

“Let’s do it.” Poe put in the new vector and sent it to Jess. He waited for her to confirm receiving it. She didn’t respond. “Received, Pava?” he prompted.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah,” Jess replied, “confirmed.” Poe could tell from her voice that she was distracted.

“Alright. Let’s go,” Poe said, leading Jess away from the asteroid field.

By his calculations, Poe figured that it would take at least two hours to get to the Iban system without jumping to hyperspace. And after about forty-five minutes of flight time, Jess was still quiet. Too quiet. Poe had hours’ worth of experiential evidence to know that with confidence. He knew that Jess wasn’t what most people would consider particularly friendly or chatty, and he knew that, when necessary, she could sit for hours in total silence. But Poe also knew that when she was in a cockpit, she was much more casual and talkative. She still never said anything personal, but she was smart, well informed, and had a good sense of humor, all of which became more apparent when they were talking over the comm. He’d learned over the past two years that, when given the chance to talk one on one, Jess was a pretty good conversationalist, so not talking to her while in flight felt unusual to Poe.

“Where’s your head, Pava?” Poe asked, breaking the silence.

“Nowhere,” Jess replied. “Here,” she corrected.

“You’re a shit liar,” Poe said. “I can tell you’re distracted. What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” Jess said quietly.

“What was that?” Poe asked, thinking he’d misheard her.

“I’m sorry,” Jess repeated.

“For what?”

“For dropping us into the middle of that…thing. I redid the math and got the same jump. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Pava, you didn’t do anything wrong. How exactly were you supposed to know that there would be a new asteroid field there?” Poe asked incredulously. “That’s not your fault.”

“Your ship is damaged because of my bad call.” Poe could hear the self-loathing in her voice.

“A call you made with the information you had. It’s the same call I would have made. Beebee-Ate confirmed the jump, too. You did the best you could with what you had. I can’t ask for better.”

Jess was silent. Poe knew she was beating herself up for the incident.

“Talk to me, Pava.”

Jess sighed heavily. “I’ve told you before—I hurt people. I let people dow—”

“Don’t you dare put this on yourself,” Poe cut her off. “This was not you. And you didn’t hurt me or let me down. My ship sustained minor damage, that’s it. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Sure,” Jess said flatly. Poe could tell she didn’t believe him.

“I mean it, Jess. This isn’t on you.”

Jess didn’t respond.

“What are you thinking?”

Jess snorted. “Who says I’m thinking something?”

“You’re always thinking something.”

Jess hmm-ed in agreement. “Where did it come from?”

“What?”

“Where did that asteroid field come from? It wasn’t on the map and asteroid fields don’t just appear.”

Poe frowned. “That’s a good question.”

“You know there’s only one place I’ve ever seen that kind of rubble field before,” Jess said.

“Alderaan Planetary Space,” Poe answered. He’d been thinking the same thing.

“That’s crazy, right? Like…the Empire is gone. The Death Star is gone. They have been for years. But…” Jess sighed.

“But what else has the power to do that?” Poe finished her thought. “I don’t know, Pava. We’ll report it when we get back to base. The NRDF can send someone out with better equipment to check it out.”

“Alright,” Jess agreed. “Was…was there anything out here? Did anyone get hurt?”

“No, I don’t think so. Based on what Command told me before we left, there’s not much out here with a population. Especially not this part of the sector. Couple of barren planets and moons without atmospheres and a couple of asteroids without a mooring. When we dropped out, I didn’t see exactly where we were or what we were near, but…I’m pretty sure weren’t near anything or anyone.”

“Good,” Jess sighed. “That’s good.”

A few minutes passed before Poe spoke again.

"Hey, Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"Even if it was your fault, I'd still be here. That wouldn't change. I just...want you to know that." 

Jess didn't respond. Poe was used to that, though. Jess had a hard time accepting praise or support.

"Thanks," she said softly. Poe grinned: it might not have been much, but it was progress.

After that, the rest of the flight to the Iban system felt much more typical to Poe with Jess acting more like herself and talking to him. She gave her review of the latest _Adventures of Luke Skywalker_ holovid (‘Perfectly terrible’ was her official review) and Poe gave his review and comparison of the T-65 and the T-85 X-Wings (along with a description of the upgrades he’d still like Incom to make on the next X-Wing iteration). They also had a brief discussion about the most recent gridlock plaguing the New Republic Senate and how clear it was that they were missing the guiding presences of Chancellor Mon Mothma and Senator Leia Organa, followed by numerous rounds of Screw, Marry, Kill.

The time passed quickly and they reached the Iban system without any further incidents. They found a place large enough for both ships to land, but was also fairly hidden, and put their ships down on the gray dirt. Poe watched Jess as she popped her canopy and stepped out onto her wing. She dropped her helmet into her cockpit and jumped down to the ground before she unhooked her flack-vest and tossed it back onto her seat. Then she began slowly circling her ship, inspecting it for any new damage. Poe followed suit, although getting down from his cockpit was going to be a bit trickier with his S-Foils not being able to close.

“How’s it looking?” he called to Jess.

“Not as bad as I was expecting. There’s a few new dents and scratches, but it’s all superficial damage—nothing significant. And nothing that I can see would damage the astromech relays,” she said as she pushed the button for the astromech dock release and dropped the C4 to the ground. “Aw, shit,” she whispered.

Poe looked over. The droid was in rough shape. Its upper dome was completely crushed and the exterior plating was pierced from tiny fragments of the asteroid. Jess tapped a few of the buttons, hoping for some sign of life from the droid, but the C4 remained powered down.

“What’s the verdict on your astromech?” Poe asked as he threw his flack-vest back into his cockpit.

“I think the C4 is a goner,” Jess said, motioning to the droid. “They took an asteroid to the dome.”

Poe let out a low whistle as he approached. “Yeah, that doesn’t look good.”

BB-8 chirped a string of beeps from his docked location.

“Beebee-Ate says that C4s are pretty sturdy and that when we get back, a good mechanic could probably fix them,” Poe translated for her as he released BB-8 from their dock.

“Thanks for the confidence,” Jess said. Sparks flew from the broken optical scanner and smoke billowed out from inside the droid. Licks of flames appeared between the cracks in the metal plating. “Or maybe not.”

“You really do have bad luck with droids,” Poe laughed.

“Yeah, the worst,” Jess sighed. She looked away from the destroyed droid and out over the landscape. Poe followed her gaze, wondering what she saw.

The planet wasn’t much to look at. It was barren and dull with a brown and rocky landscape and a hazy gray sky. They had landed their ships in a valley the foothills of some imposing and steep mountains. They were surrounded by severe gray stone walls with no vegetation or animal life that Poe could detect. The climate was as unwelcoming as the terrain with a constant cold wind that blew from the south. Everything about this planet seemed to tell visitors ‘Go Away.’

“Great place for a stop, Boss. Where are we again?” Jess asked.

“Ibanjji. Literally the edge of nowhere. There are a few colonies, but no starport, no industry, no population centers,” Poe said. A gust of icy wind whipped past them, the chill cutting through their flight suits. A shiver ran down his spine. “And very harsh conditions.”

Jess shrugged. “Not the worst I’ve experienced.”

“Sorry, some of us aren’t as well-traveled as you,” Poe teased.

Jess rolled her eyes. “Most of the planets I’ve been to, you wouldn’t _want_ to go to.”

Poe shrugged. “Maybe if you told me where you’ve been, I could make that call for myself.”

Jess ignored Poe’s attempt to mine her for information about herself and instead looked over at his X-Wing and its stuck open S-Foils. “So how are we gonna fix your ship?” she asked.

“I thought you could fix anything,” Poe smirked.

Jess raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to be funny?”

“Nope. Just holding you to your words.”

Jess looked Poe up and down before returning the smirk. “What’s the damage?” she asked and walked around Poe’s ship. BB-8 rolled alongside her and let out a long string of beeps and whirs.

“Slow down, Beebee-Ate,” Jess said, “I’m still learning binary.”

BB-8 let out a sound that could only be described as a droid’s sigh. Poe grinned: he had gotten that sound numerous times from his astromech since they’d met years ago.

Jess laughed. “Let’s take it from the top.” BB-8 began again, more slowly this time. Jess listened closely before raising an eyebrow at Poe. “Really?” she asked.

“I did not,” Poe defended himself. “That stabilizer was perfect when we left.”

“They say you didn’t check the joint before takeoff and that it was loose before the asteroid impact," Jess grinned. He knew she was teasing him because he knew that she trusted that he wouldn't leave atmo in a ship with a loose stabilizer joint.

“They do not know everything,” Poe said, looking accusatorily at BB-8.

Jess put her hands on her hips and looked disapprovingly at Poe. “I trust that central processing unit over a human brain any day.”

“I heard you have trouble with astro units,” Poe shot back.

“That’s why I said _that_ CPU. Beebee-Ate is one of a kind.”

Poe grinned. “I’ve told you that before.”

BB-8 let out a chirp of approval.

“Alright, Beebee-Ate. Let’s see if we can fix what _Your Pilot_ broke,” Jess said.

For the first five minutes, Poe tried to help, but then Jess got irritated with him and shooed him away.

“Go fidget with the C4 if you need something to do,” she said.

“It’s my ship,” Poe argued.

“And I’m a better mechanic,” Jess grinned. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

Poe sighed. “Fine.” He threw his hands up in surrender and went to check out Pava’s C4 droid.

It took all of 30 seconds for him to be certain that the droid was a lost cause. He sighed and sat down next to the dead droid to watch Jess and BB-8 work on the stabilizer. Jess had lifted BB-8 onto the wing and was perched next to them with her hands deep in the inner workings of Poe's ship.

Eventually, Jess slid down off of the wing and walked over to him.

“What’s your diagnosis?”

“I can fix it. The joint is bent and there’s a rip in about 8 inches of the flexhose. Now, what do you want first: the good news or the bad news?” she asked as she wiped hydraulic fluid off of her hands and onto the legs of her flight suit.

“Good.”

“The joint is fixable with parts from the C4 and tools we have. And the flexhose will be easy to replace.”

“Great! So what’s the bad news?”

“I need about 8 inches of flexhose.”

“We don’t have any with us?”

“Nope.”

“And we can’t pull from your ship?”

Jess shook her head. “Then I’ll be short. Either way, we’ll be short 8 inches. There isn’t much wiggle room when it comes to flexhose. They’re tight for a reason.” 

“Seems like a faulty design if a bit of rock could do this.”

“That’s why they updated the design for the T-70 and T-85. The flexhose did what it was supposed to, though—it protected the joint. But now it needs to be replaced.”

“Ok, so what are we gonna do? I doubt this rock has a parts depot.”

“Don’t need one—pretty much any flexhose will work. I’d guess a planet like this has moisture or wind farms and hydraulic flexhose is used in both of those. I think we’ll be able to trade for it in pretty much any colony we can find,” Jess said. She ducked under her X-Wing to her cargo hold and grabbed her bag. She slung it over her shoulder before she turned back at Poe. “What do you have to trade?”

“About 25 credits. You?” Poe replied.

“About the same,” Jess said. “I think that should be plenty. Do we have any bacta bandages?”

“We should have a few. I haven’t checked the medkits, though,” Poe said.

“Let’s bring those, too. And maybe a few other things from the medkit. Who knows what credits are worth on this rock, but med supplies are always valuable.”

“Med supplies?” Poe asked.

“Yeah, they’re always in demand on the Rim.”

“I don’t remember that being a thing on Yavin IV,” Poe said as he dug the medkit out from his cargo hold.

“Yeah, that’s cause you grew up on a Rebel Retirement planet where goods weren’t in short supply. The rest of us on the Rim weren’t so lucky,” Jess replied candidly.

Poe stopped digging through the medkit and considered what Jess had said. It had taken a while for him to not get defensive when Jess talked about his childhood on Yavin IV versus the rest of the Outer Rim. He’d finally figured out that she wasn’t bitter or angry about the differences, just very matter of fact about the disparities between the Rebel communities and other planets on the Rim. He’d realized that she wasn’t trying to make him feel guilty, but wanted him to be aware that not everyone on the Rim had been as fortunate as the colonies on Yavin IV had been.

“Fair enough,” Poe said with a nod. He decided to put the entire medkit into his bag and stood. “Which way are we headed, Pava?”

Jess pulled her datapad out of her bag and tapped the screen. Poe moved closer to her so he could look over her shoulder at the Planetary Map App. They waited a moment for the GPS to update itself to Ibanjji’s coordinates before Jess keyed in a search to look for the nearest colony. A ping and a red dot indicated that there was one about five klicks away. Jess dropped a pin at their location and let the program map a route between the two spots.

“That way,” she said and pointed east.

Poe checked his bag once more for his gear before he shrugged it over his shoulder. He felt for his blaster at his hip and ran through his list of gear in his head. Convinced he had everything, he turned to BB-8. “Hey buddy, I need you to stay here,” Poe told the droid. BB-8 gave a series of annoyed beeps, arguing that they should be allowed to come along with _My Pilot._ “We need to you watch the ships. Comm me if anything happens. Alright?”

BB-8 let out a low beep of sullen agreement and rolled back to the ship.

Poe looked at Jess with a shrug. “He likes going on adventures.”

“I’ve noticed. Must get it from his dad,” Jess grinned. “You ready?”

He nodded. “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Star Wars hasn't ever cared too much about physics, but I tried to make it as realistic as I could to the science we know. Also, more roller coaster terminology, cause I love coasters.
> 
> And Jess is the 'Great Destroyer' to the droids, so I had to play with that.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos adored.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

It took them about an hour to walk to the town—if it could even be called a town. It was small—Poe guessed less than 600 residents lived there in total. There was one main road with shops and various dwellings on both sides of said road, and very little else.

“So where we gonna find this flexhose?” Poe asked, looking around.

Jess gestured to the street. “Pick a shop. There aren’t that many to check.”

The first two shops they checked were busts: one was clothing and footwear and the other food. The third shop, though, was a junk shop with bits and pieces ranging from homewares to droids to ships.

“Here we go,” Jess said with a grin. “This is the kind of place we might find what we’re looking for.”

The shopkeeper directed them to the back corner where boxes of used parts were stacked haphazardly in the corner. Poe was digging through his second box when he noticed Jess tense up.

“What is it?” Poe whispered.

“Act normal, but we’ve got a shadow,” Jess whispered.

“How do you know?”

“I wasn’t sure until now, but that Ithorian that just came in has been following us since we entered town. He waited outside the last two stores, but now he’s getting bold enough to approach.”

Poe nodded and went back to looking through his box of odds and ends parts, but kept an eye on the Ithorian at the front of the shop. The Ithorian kept watching them and talking into a commlink.

“Come on,” Poe murmured, “let’s go.”

Jess gave him a questioning look.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about that Ithorian,” Poe told her.

“Alright,” Jess nodded and followed him out of the store.

They walked farther down the road, glancing into shops and other businesses. Nowhere else seemed to have the kind of parts they were looking for. Poe glanced over his shoulder a few times, but the Ithorian seemed to have disappeared.

They walked into another shop, this one selling terraforming materials. Poe nodded in greeting to the old woman at the counter. He looked around—there was still no sign of the Ithorian.

“I think we lost him,” Poe said. “Or he lost interest in us.”

“I don’t think so,” Jess said, glancing around the store.

“Why not?”

“Did you notice the shopkeeper has disappeared?”

“What?” Poe looked—she was right, the old woman had vanished. “Where—”

“We’ve got company,” Jess muttered.

“Are you sure?” Poe asked.

“Put your hands up,” a low voice said from behind them.

Poe felt the nose of a blaster push into his back. He glanced at Jess, who had raised her hands compliantly. He followed suit.

“Yep,” Jess said. “I’m sure.”

“Now what are a couple of NRDF pilots doing out here? Don’t you know this sector belongs to the Hy'thor Group?” the voice growled.

Jess furrowed her brow. “Lompiach?” she asked.

There was a hesitation before the voice replied, “How do you know that name?”

Jess smirked. Poe watched out of the corner of his eye as she turned around quickly and grabbed the blaster, twisted it out of a very large Nalroni’s hand, and ejected the charge. The Nalroni was already reaching for another blaster and out of his peripheral vision, Poe could see at least three more lackies with their blasters pointed at Jess. Jess, though, didn’t seem to notice or care.

“You shouldn’t have hesitated, Lom,” she said with a grin as she offered the disabled blaster back to the Nalroni. “Your father taught me that.”

“What are you doing?” Poe hissed.

“Pava!” the Nalroni greeted. “Lower your blasters, she is a friend!”

“What about this one?” the Ithorian from before asked. He still had his blaster pressed to Poe’s back.

“He’s my friend. Let him go,” Jess said.

“Do as she says,” the Nalroni ordered.

Poe relaxed minutely when the blaster was removed from his back. He turned to see Jess standing face to face with the large Nalroni, who was flanked by two humans and a Rodian. Their Ithorian shadow stood directly behind Poe, his blaster still in his hand.

“It’s been a long time, Pava.”

“It has. I was sorry to hear of your father’s passing. Matte han komme tilbake til stjernestov.”

“Thank you,” the Nalroni nodded. “I honor his legacy by continuing to lead the Hy'thor Group.” 

“Looks like you’re doing him proud. We didn’t hear you coming until it was too late. Your shadow was a little obvious, though. Saw him as soon as we entered the colony.”

“He’s new. What are you doing dressed as an NRDF pilot? Is this a con job? Need some backup?” the Nalroni asked, his canine face twisted into a conspiratorial grin.

“Nah. I’m on the straight and narrow now,” Jess replied. “Real NRDF pilot.”

The Nalroni raised his blaster again. “And you chose to come here?” he asked. “Knowing this is our space?”

“Put that away, Lom. I’m not here by choice,” Jess replied. “My wingman and I hit an asteroid field a couple of parsecs from here. One of our ships sustained some damage, so we stopped for repairs.”

“Pava, shut up,” Poe nudged her.

“Lompiach isn’t going to kill me,” Jess said confidently. She stared into the Nalroni’s eyes. “He owes me.”

The Nalroni narrowed his eyes but lowered his blaster. “You’re right. For now.”

“Honest, Lom, I had no idea you were set up here,” Jess sighed. “Last I knew, you were still out on Maltha Obex.” The confidence she spoke to this pirate with should have surprised Poe, but somehow, it didn’t.

Lompiach looked Jess up and down before putting his blaster back in its holster. “It is good to see you again, Pava.”

Jess smiled. “You too, Lom. This is my friend, Poe. Poe, this is Lompiach, the leader of the Hy'thor Pirate Group, and the late Ompiach’s only son.” 

The Nalroni tilted his head to the side. “And does Poe have a family name?” Lompiach asked.

“Not one that you need to know,” Jess replied. She nodded to the others with him. “You’ve gotten some new crewmates since I last saw you.”

“I assume you remember Sible,” he indicated to the human female. “The Rodian is Nobu and the humans are Laslo and Veer. And your terrible Ithorian shadow is Dorlig.”

“Hey Sible,” Jess nodded at the dark-skinned woman. “Good to see you.”

“Didn’t know you were still around, Pava,” Sible said, her dark eyes flashing. “Thought maybe you’d died.”

“Don’t assume I’m dead until you see a body,” Jess quipped.

“Or if I put a blaster bolt in you myself,” Sible said. Poe tensed, ready to draw his blaster if Sible tried anything.

“Oh, has your aim improved that much? Cause otherwise, I’m not worried,” Jess replied with a smirk.

Sible’s glare melted into a smile. “Aaay. Welcome back.”

“ _Welcome back_?” Poe whispered.

“Shush,” Jess hissed. She turned and looked at Dorlig. “Not a lot of Ithorian pirates. Any relation to the Venithons?”

“No,” Dorlig sneered. “Don’t insult me by comparing me to those traitors.”

Jess nodded and looked over the crew. “Yashi doesn’t fly with you anymore?” Jess asked Lompiach.

Lompiach smiled. “He’s at our base. With Kitrun.”

“Of course,” Jess nodded. Poe could hear something that might have been disappointment in her voice but wasn’t sure if it was because of the news that this Yashi character was still a pirate or that she wasn’t going to see him. Alternatively, Poe thought, he might have been reading far too much into her tone.

Apparently, Lompiach heard the same thing. “Would you like to go see him?” he asked. “Come, have dinner with us. We can catch up.”

Jess lit up. “Yes.”

“No,” Poe said at the same time.

Jess turned and looked at him. “Yes, we will,” she said firmly. The look in her eyes told Poe that this was important to her.

“Alright,” Poe agreed.

“We’ll need to blindfold you,” Sible said.

“Really?” Jess asked incredulously.

“You left, Pava. And you’re NRDF now. Can’t be too careful,” Sible said.

“Fair enough,” Jess sighed. “Fine.”

“We didn’t agree to that,” Poe argued.

“Poe, just do it,” Jess said.

“How do you know they won’t kill us?” Poe whispered. He had had enough experience with pirates and smugglers to know that trusting them was generally not a great idea.

Jess shrugged. “Before the NRDF, it’s how I survived. I read people fast or I died. Lom isn’t gonna kill us.”

“Is Sible?” Poe raised an eyebrow.

The pirate woman grinned dangerously. “Not right now.”

“She’s not,” Jess said with a roll of her eyes. “It’ll be okay.”

Poe sighed. “Fine.”

“Come,” Lompiach said, waving them out of the shop. They followed the pirate crew to a droid-pulled hovercart and two speeder bikes. “Get in,” he directed, pointing to the cargo space. 

“In the back?” Jess asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“No room up front,” Sible said. “You’re not one of the crew anymore, Pava.”

Jess shrugged and got in. Poe hesitantly sat down next to her. All of his instincts went against trusting these pirates.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he breathed to Jess.

“I do,” Jess replied.

“Blindfolds,” Sible announced before tying the strips of cloth over Jess’s eyes and then Poe’s. “Comfortable?”

“Close enough,” Jess replied.

“Good,” Sible said, a smile in her voice. “Will you leave them on or do we need to bind your hands?”

“I’d like to see you try that, Sible,” Jess replied. “We’ll leave them on.”

“This is your only warning.”

“Understood,” Jess said.

Poe heard Sible’s boots crunch on the gravel as she walked up to the front of the cart. “Let’s roll.”

As soon as the cart started moving, Jess slid closer to Poe and leaned in until her lips were almost brushing against his ear.

“Listen,” Jess whispered, “don’t say my first name or your last. Deflect any question that feels personal. Give half-truths or general answers when you do answer. Obfuscate. Don’t give them enough to hold onto any details about you. Just…follow my lead.”

Poe resisted the urge to tell Jess ‘I’ve dealt with crews like this before.’ The irony was not lost on him: the year of his life that he didn’t share with anyone was apparently the best common ground he had with Jess. The way Jess interacted with most people made much more sense now—it was nearly identical to how she told him to interact with the pirate crew. Even so, he knew he was missing some pretty major pieces to the puzzle and still didn’t have the whole picture. He wished he could see Jess’s face—she had a great sabacc face, but he thought that right now, in this place with her past and present colliding, she might show something new.

But Poe didn’t have the words for any of that, nor was this the place to have that conversation. So instead, he settled on saying, “I thought you trusted them.”

“I do. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Poe said confidently.

“Good.” Jess straightened up and slid a bit further away from him. “We’ll be fine, Poe. Promise.”

“How’s this work? The crew, I mean,” Poe whispered.

“Lompiach is the leader, the boss. Sible is his number two. Everyone else on the crew has a skill set or purpose—retrieval, grifting, slicing, piloting, and so on.”

“Who is Yashi?”

“He’s their hitter—you need someone to go down, you send in Yashi.”

“He’s that good?”

Jess chuckled. “Yeah, he’s _that_ good.”

“What about Kitrun? Who’s that?”

“She’s their slicer. I doubt a computer exists that she can’t get into given enough time and a dose of ryll.”

“What about the other three?”

“Couldn’t tell you. They can all overlap to an extent.”

“What did you do?” Poe asked.

“Freelanced,” Jess replied cryptically.

“Vague.”

Jess huffed a laugh. “I did what they needed, but piloting was my main gig.”

“How long were you with them?”

“Not long,” Jess replied.

Jess’s words from moments before ran through Poe’s head. _‘Deflect any question that feels personal. Give half-truths or general answers when you do answer. Obfuscate.’_ It was a code she lived by.

“Hmm,” Poe said. He couldn’t help but wonder how similar his experience with the Kijimi Spice Runners was to Jess’s experience with the Hy'thor Pirate Group. 

As the droid pulled the cart along, Poe made a map in his mind of the route. His internal senses of time and direction had been sharp ever since he was a kid—he thanked his Pathfinder father for that—and the NRDF’s training had only reinforced those skills. The trip took twenty minutes and had six turns and two significant veers to the left. When the cart came to a stop, Poe was confident he could have retraced the path back to town without issue. 

“We’re here,” Sible said.

“Can we take these off?” Jess asked. Poe assumed she meant the blindfolds.

“When we’re inside.”

A hand took Poe’s shoulder and guided him forward through a doorway. As soon as the door hissed closed behind them, Sible removed their blindfolds.

Poe looked around and was surprised to find that they were in what seemed to be a common room. There was a large table in the middle of the room and an odd assortment of mismatched sofas, chairs, and lounge furniture along the edges. Doors and hallways split off like legs of an insect, each leading in a different direction and connected to the main room via an archway. There were no windows and each staircase led up, which made Poe believe they were underground. The whole scene was strangely… _domestic,_ he thought, for a group of pirates. Nothing about it reminded him of the safehouses he’d used when he’d been running with Zorii and her gang. Not that he’d told Jess anything about that time in his life. Nor did he plan to.

“Oh, cute. You all bought a house together,” Jess said, putting words to Poe’s thoughts.

Sible rolled her eyes. “Yashi! We have guests!” she shouted.

“Guests? What kriffing reason would you have to bring guests back?” a male voice shouted back.

“Come greet them and you’ll see,” Lompiach replied.

“Still a grouch?” Jess asked.

“Always,” Lompiach said.

“Especially since you left,” Sible said with a knowing smile as she dropped into a chair.

“Don’t you have something to do?” Lompiach said.

“And miss the show? No way.” Sible grinned.

“Show?” Poe asked.

“Out of the way, human,” Dorlig grunted as he pushed past Poe and disappearing through one of the doorways. 

“Did I do something to him?” Poe asked.

“No, don’t worry about him,” Sible said, “he hates humans.”

“Doesn’t seem to hate you,” Jess said.

“I’ll rephrase—he hates _NRDF_ humans.”

Jess huffed a laugh. “Fair enough. I’d probably hate us, too, if I was in his boots.”

“Lompiach, what the hell are you thinking? Bringing strangers back to our base an—Pava?” a man stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes fixed on Jess. He was tall, and older than Jess, with dark hair and sharp eyes, and most notably, at least in Poe’s mind, he was wearing Mandalorian armor.

“Hey Yashi,” Jess grinned.

“Hey. How…how are you?” The man crossed the room and gave Jess a tentative hug. He looked her up and down. “And what are you wearing?”

“Of course you know a kriffing Mandalorian,” Poe muttered. Jess stepped on his foot.

“I’m good,” Jess said, ignoring Poe. “Training for the NRDF. How about you?”

The Mandalorian nodded. “I’m doing well. Still with the crew, as you can see.”

“So piracy worked out for you.”

“It’s better than Bounty Hunting,” he said with a shrug.

“And he’s a bounty hunter. Perfect,” Poe whispered.

Jess turned and glared at Poe. “And this is my very rude friend, Poe,” she said pointedly. “Poe, this is Yashi.”

“Good to meet you,” Yashi said, offering a hand.

“Same, I think,” Poe said as he took the man’s hand.

“Are you hesitating because I’m a Mandalorian or because I’m a pirate?”

“Both.”

“Poe!” Jess hissed.

Yashi laughed. “Candor. I appreciate that.” He looked back at Jess with a smile. “You look good, Pava.”

“You too, Yash.”

“You staying for dinner?”

“If we’re welcome,” Jess answered and looked to Lompiach. The Naldori waved his hand in acquiescence.

“Great. Come sit, we have years to catch up on,” Yashi said and grabbed Jess’s hand to lead her to the table. He sat Jess next to him and Poe took the empty seat across from her, between Dorlig and Veer. Slowly, the rest of the crew filtered into the room and took their seats.

“Laslo, you’re on duty. Go to the nest,” Lompiach ordered. The blond man muttered under his breath as he grabbed his food and disappeared up one of the flights of stairs.

Poe looked to his left at Veer. “Hi, how are ya?” Poe said. Veer grunted at him. “Strong but silent type, eh?”

“Veer’s a mute,” Sible said. “His vocal cords were cut when he pissed off a Hutt.”

“Shiiiit,” Poe hissed. “Sorry.” Veer jerked his head in what Poe hoped was an acceptance of his apology. He turned to look at Dorlig. “Hi.”

“Don’t talk to me, Republic trash,” Dorlig snarled.

“Right, got it,” Poe said, looking back at Jess.

“Where’s Kitrun?” Jess asked.

Yashi laughed. “Where else? In her lair.”

“Naturally,” Jess said. “She coming down?”

“Doubt it,” Yashi shrugged.

Jess looked around the table. “So who’s your crew? What are your specialties?”

“That’s personal,” Sible laughed.

“I could guess,” Jess said.

“I’m still grifting,” Sible said after a sip of her drink. “Lompiach is still piloting. Yashi is still hitting.”

“And Kitrun is still slicing. I meant your new friends,” Jess rolled her eyes.

“Veer is a thief. He’s damn good, too. Stole the Izetyne jewels before he hooked up with us,” Yashi said.

“Yashi! They’re NRDF,” Lompiach warned.

“It’s Pava,” Yashi replied.

“I won’t say anything. Neither will Poe,” Jess promised.

“Laslo is Veer’s brother—they came as a set,” Sible continued. “And Dorlig does weapons and mechanics.” 

“Sounds like you’ve got a good crew here,” Jess said.

“We do,” Lompiach agreed.

A serving droid rolled into the room, plates balanced on its extended limbs. Once everyone had grabbed a plate and settled into their seats, Lompiach stared across the table at Jess.

“So what are you doing out here, Pava?” the Nalroni asked.

“I told you, we were on a training run, sustained some damage. I’m still at the Academy and we were out for some real-space practice,” Jess replied easily with a half-truth.

“You need training?” Lompiach asked skeptically.

“Do I need it? Probably not. But it’s a requirement,” Jess shrugged. Poe grinned—Jess’s confidence in her abilities was unshakable.

“Did you find anything interesting?” Yashi asked.

“Present company excluded?” Jess gestured to the room.

“Obviously.”

Jess considered the Mandalorian next to her before speaking. “We ran into an asteroid field that wasn’t supposed to be there. It wasn’t on any nav chart or in our astromech’s data dump. Any of you know anything about that?”

Yashi looked for permission from Lompiach, who nodded.

“That asteroid field is the remnants of a moon,” Yashi told her.

“What happened to it?”

“We don’t know,” Sible said from her seat next to Lompiach. “It was there one day and was gone the next.”

“Did it have a population?” Poe asked.

“No,” Sible shook her head. Her locs swayed back and forth. “No atmosphere. It was just a rock.”

“Good,” Jess said, relieved that Sible had confirmed Poe’s assumption. “But what did that?”

“There have been rumors,” Yashi said, “rumors of a military force growing in wild space.”

“With the power to blow up a moon?” Jess asked.

“They're only rumors, Pava,” Lompiach said.

“Humor me,” Jess said.

“We’ve steered clear of them,” Lompiach replied. “Their business is theirs and ours is ours.”

“I know your father’s code, Lom,” Jess sighed, “but if someone has the power to blow up a moon, that seems like something you should be willing to break the code for.”

Lompiach looked at Jess fondly. “That is why you were never going to be a pirate, Pava. You are too driven to do the right thing for all, not just for your crew.”

“There have been whispers that this group is calling themselves the First Order,” Yashi said.

“Yashi,” Lompiach said, his tone low and warning. Yashi glared back.

“The First Order? Who is that? What is that?” Poe asked.

“We don’t know,” Yashi shrugged.

“And we don’t care to find out,” Sible added.

Jess furrowed her brow. “Why is that familiar?” she asked Poe. “The First Order?”

“It is, isn’t it?” Poe frowned. “I don’t know.”

“They’re rumors. Nothing more,” Lompiach said.

“That asteroid field is real enough,” Poe argued.

“If there’s a risk out here, you should tell us. Rumors or not, it needs to be checked out. We can leave you out of it, but that kind of power shouldn’t be left unchecked,” Jess said.

“Enough, Pava,” Lompiach said warningly. “Leave it.”

Jess stared at the Nalroni before, much to Poe’s surprise, she gave a single nod. Poe had no memory of Jess ever backing down so quickly.

The table ate in silence until Yashi cleared his throat.

“So, Poe—where you from?”

Poe glanced at Jess, who shot him a meaningful glance. _‘Deflect any question that feels personal. Give half-truths or general answers when you do answer. Obfuscate.’_ Her words echoed again in his head.

“Farming colony on the rim,” Poe answered.

“Anywhere we’ve heard of?”

Poe shrugged noncommittally. “Wouldn’t know where you’ve heard of.”

Sible laughed. “You’re as evasive as Pava.”

“He had to learn it somewhere,” Jess said with a smirk. Poe didn’t correct her that he’d learned how to dance around a question long before they’d ever met.

“You fly with the NRDF, right?” Yashi asked.

“I do,” Poe confirmed.

“What do you fly?”

“I can fly anything.”

“I was chased by an NRDF pilot once,” Dorlig said.

“What happened?” Poe asked.

“No! Don’t encourage him!” Sible groaned dramatically.

“Now you have to tell us. What happened?” Jess echoed Poe’s words, a sly grin on her face.

Dorling’s story led the other pirates to share their own stories of near-misses with the NRDF or other branches of the New Republic Military. Poe had a feeling that, like any other gang of scoundrels in the galaxy, most of the stories were hugely exaggerated, if not completely made up. Every once in a while (specifically, when Lomiach, Sible, or Yashi were sharing a story), Jess would make eye contact with Poe and indicate how much the story had been exaggerated. Jess grinned and laughed along with the crew, but never shared stories of her own. Poe supposed that it should make him feel better that it wasn’t just him that she didn’t share stories with—she kept her life secret from everyone.

“Lompiach!” a new voice called.

Poe turned to see a purple-skinned Dug come through one of the many doorways, a datapad in its grasp.

“Hello, Kitrun,” Jess said.

The Dug looked at Jess and gave what Poe thought might be a grin.

“Aaaaay, Pava!” Kitrun greeted. She started chattering at Jess in Doge before she turned and saw Poe. She looked him up and down before she rattled off more words that Poe didn’t understand. He turned to Jess for a translation.

“Well, she called me a ‘kriffing skug rat‘ and called you an ‘ideal specimen of the human male,’ so…” Jess shrugged. “I think she likes you more than me.”

“What is it, Kitrun?” Lompiach asked. The Dug started chattering at him, waving her datapad around.

“I see,” Lompiach nodded. He looked at Jess and cleared his throat. “Not that it isn’t nice to see you, Pava, but—”

“But a couple of NRDF pilots hanging around is bad for business,” Jess said. “I know.”

“What do you need to repair your ship?” Lompiach asked.

“About 8 inches of flexhose,” Jess said.

“That’s it? You don’t have that in your repair kit?” Sible raised an eyebrow. “What the hell do we pay taxes for if the NRDF doesn’t even give their pilots basic repair equipment?”

“You don’t pay taxes,” Jess reminded her. “And we’re in training ships. A training ship’s repair kit is significantly pared down compared to a standard fighter’s kit,” she shrugged. “We were gonna buy the flexhose in town before we ran into you.”

“We’ll provide you with some,” Lompiach said. “Sible, go get some flexhose for her. Nobu, go check that everything is locked up outside—looks like a storm might be rolling in. Dorlig, go join Laslo in the nest. And Veer, get this cleaned up,” he gestured to the table. “And Yashi…do whatever the hell it is you do. Kitrun, tell me more,” Lompiach ordered. He didn’t watch as his crew left the table to tend to their assigned duties. 

“Yes, Sir,” Sible nodded and headed for one of the hallways. The Nalroni was already deeply invested in the screen Kitrun was showing him. “Figures,” Sible rolled her eyes with a laugh.

“I’ll go with you,” Jess offered and stood.

Yashi caught her hand and turned her around.

“Actually, Pava, can we talk?” Yashi asked. He glanced at Poe. “Privately?”

“Sure.” Jess nodded and let him lead her halfway up a flight of stairs to a landing.

Poe followed as close as he dared. He could see Jess’s profile and, if he stood perfectly still, could hear their hushed voices.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Yashi said.

“The galaxy’s a small place. We were bound to run into each other eventually,” Jess replied softly. Poe was certain he’d never heard that tone of voice from her before.

“How’ve you really been?”

“Surprisingly good,” Jess said. “Better than I ever thought I’d be.”

“Even in the NRDF?”

“It’s not so bad,” Jess chuckled.

“How the hell did that happen?”

“Got caught. Made a deal.” Poe could see Jess shrug.

“You need help getting out?”

“No,” Jess said quickly with a shake of her head. “Like I said…I’m good. How about you?”

“Same old, same old,” the Mandalorian replied.

“I’m surprised you stayed,” Jess said quietly.

“I’m surprised you didn’t.” Poe saw Yashi’s hand reach out and caress Jess’s cheek.

“Wasn’t my style.” Jess leaned back against the wall. Yashi stepped closer, his body pressed to hers.

“Oh, I know. You’re more the ‘save the galaxy’ type.”

“No, I’m not,” Jess shook her head.

“Sure you are, you have a martyr complex. Always have. You’ve gotta save everyone,” Yashi chuckled. ”I miss you,” he whispered. Poe watched as the Mandalorian leaned in and kissed Jess. He was even more surprised to see Jess kiss him back. Poe looked away quickly.

Jess broke off the kiss with a sigh and a laugh. “It’s good to see you, Yash.”

“You don’t miss me?” Yashi asked, stepping back out of Poe’s view.

“It’s not that,” Jess said. She gave him a sad smile. “I do miss you, but…I don’t miss this.” She gestured around her.

"Piracy."

"Yeah."

“Come with me. I still have my ship. I’ll leave the Hy'thor Group, you leave the NRDF. We could disappear together,” Yashi said.

“Run away with you, hmm?” Jess said. “And why would I run away with a man who doesn’t even know my first name?”

“It’s romantic.”

“Is it, though?”

“I’d know your name if you told me.”

Jess shook her head. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“Was worth a try,” Yashi shrugged. “Think about it, though. We could go—see the galaxy. Take jobs as we want. Skip the ones we don’t. We could do this,” he said, trying to entice her.

“No, we can’t. Yash…we aren’t good for each other.”

“I’d disagree.”

Jess chuckled. “Don’t lie.”

Yashi gave a hmm of agreement. “Maybe you’re right. But we had fun, didn’t we?”

That made Jess laugh. “We did.”

“Maybe we could relive those times?” Yashi said as he stepped closer again. He put his hands on her hips, making his invitation obvious.

“No,” Jess shook her head. She reached out and put one hand on his shoulder and the other on his cheek. “Let’s leave those memories alone. They’re good ones.”

“You with that other pilot?” Yashi asked.

Jess leaned her head back against the wall and laughed. “Poe? No.” She snaked her arms behind the Mandalorian’s neck. “Definitely not,” she sighed.

Poe tried not to let her reaction offend him. He’d never had a romantic interest in Jess, but being dismissed so easily did bruise his ego a bit.

“Why not? He’s not bad looking. Seems like an alright guy, too. He treats you good?”

“He’s a _great_ guy. But shockingly, I don’t sleep with everyone I fly with,” Jess replied with a grin. Poe grinned, too: being called a ‘great guy’ did help take the sting out of Jess’s dismissal.

“Oh, then what made me so lucky?” Yashi leaned his forehead against Jess’s.

“Felt sorry for you,” she smirked.

Yashi groaned and laughed, dropping his head to her shoulder. “Is that all?”

“And I wanted to know what was under all that armor,” Jess said, her voice low. She moved her hands to run through his short hair. When Yashi lifted his head to face her again, Jess leaned forward and captured his lips in another kiss. 

“Poe,” Sible called.

Poe jumped—he hadn’t heard the woman return to the common room. “Yeah, yeah. What’s up?”

“This what you need?” she asked, holding up a length of flexhose.

“Yeah. That’s it.” Poe confirmed. Sible tossed the flexhose to him. He caught it deftly and inspected it. “This is brand new.”

“And?”

“We were expecting to buy a used part. It’s a T-65, it doesn’t need the newest stuff.”

Sible scoffed. “Like we’d let Pava fly off with a shit part.”

“What do we owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No. I have money, I can pay you.” 

“Consider it a favor.”

“Not sure I want to be in debt to a pirate gang.”

“It’s not a favor for you. It’s for Pava. And we owe her more than a foot of flexhose.”

“Why?” Poe asked before he could stop himself.

Sible grinned. “Ask her sometime. It’s a good story.”

Poe sat down on one of the sofas, his eyes fixed on the staircase Jess and Yashi had disappeared up. Finally, the two reappeared. Poe stood, trying very hard to ignore the mess Jess’s braid had become.

“We should get back to our ships,” Poe told Jess.

“You got the flexhose?” Jess asked. Poe tossed it to her. “Nice.” She walked back to the table, where Lompiach and Kitrun were still looking over the datapad.

“Lom, thank you for your hospitality. But we’ve gotta get back to our ships and get home.”

“Not tonight,” Lompiach said without looking up from the screen. “No one’s going anywhere tonight. A storm came in. You won’t make it 10 minutes out there.”

“So we’re just supposed to stay here?” Jess said with a raised brow.

“Even without the storm, you will not be able to replace the part in the dark,” Yashi reasoned. “Not even you are that good.” He leaned close to Jess and ran his hand down her arm. “Stay. With me,” he whispered.

Jess gave a barely perceptible shake of her head. “Poe and I will crash out here. Tomorrow we’ll head out.”

“We’ll need to contact the NRDF,” Poe said, “let them know we’re still alive. Otherwise, they’ll come looking.”

“You mention us, you won’t be,” Lompiach threatened.

“Of course,” Poe agreed easily. “We won’t even tell them where we are. What’s another planet near here?”

“Jerne. It’s close and similar in landscape and climate,” Sible provided.

“Jerne. Perfect.” Poe held up his comm. “Can I call in?”

“Sible stays in the room with you,” Lompiach said.

“Fine,” Poe agreed. Arguing with a pirate on something like this was not a fight he’d win and was not worth the time it would take. “Lead the way.”

Sible took him to an empty room that looked like it had been used as an office by the compound’s previous resident. She leaned against the door as Poe called into Command to let them know about the damaged ship and their plan to get home. He also called Muran with the same message.

Once the comm calls were made, Poe returned to the common room to find Jess sitting close to Yashi on one of the sofas, talking animatedly with him. Her expression wasn’t the one that caught his attention, though. He could tell from Yashi’s face that he was enamored with Jess. That concerned Poe: he wasn’t jealous, but he was protective of Jess and wasn’t sure if he trusted the Mandalorian with his friend. 

“Hey!” Jess greeted and turned towards Poe. “Get in touch with Command?”

“Uh, yeah. And Muran. They’re expecting us back tomorrow,” Poe said and ran a hand through his hair.

“Perfect. Now that we have the flexhose, the repair should only take about thirty minutes and we’ll be out of here. All in all, good news,” Jess said.

“That is indeed good news, Pava. Tomorrow we will take you to town at first light. You can return to your ships from there,” Lompiach said. “Until then, sleep well.”

“Thank you, Lom, for everything. You sleep well, too,” Jess said. Lompiach nodded and disappeared through one of the arched doorways.

“You sure you don’t want to sleep in a real bed? The offer’s still open,” Yashi asked, leaning close.

Jess smiled, but leaned back and away from the Mandalorian. “Good night, Yashi,” she said kindly, but firmly.

Yashi sighed but stood and stepped away from the couch. “I understand and will respect your wishes. And since your wishes are not for my company tonight, I'll bid you good night, Miss Pava.” He smiled and left the room with a swish of his cape.

One by one, the rest of the Hy’thor crew disappeared to their rooms until only Jess and Poe remained in the common room.

“I’m sorry about…all of this,” Jess said awkwardly, waving her hand to indicate their entire situation. “it’s a mess. I’m a mess.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Poe asked. “It’s not like you planned this. And you didn’t do anything wrong. Plus, we’re safe and we’ve got the part we need. Things could be significantly worse. I think this is a win.”

Jess gave a weak smile. “Yeah, things could be worse.”

“Go to sleep, Pava. It’s been a long day and we’ll be back in the air before you know it. It’s all good.”

“Whatever you say, Boss,” Jess said as she stretched out on one of the sofas. “Good night, Poe.”

“Night, Pava,” Poe said and turned off the light. He tried to settle his mind, but the past ten hours had it racing. Specifically, his mind kept circling on how Jess had come to be on friendly terms with a band of pirates like the Hy’thor Group. Poe tried to systematically push the questions from his mind, but after a few minutes had passed, there was still one question Poe was wrestling with. “Hey Pava? Are you still awake?” he asked, staring up at the dark ceiling.

“Yeah. What’s up?” Jess’s disembodied voice answered.

“You’ll tell me about this one day, right? Why you know these pirates? What happened?”

Jess laughed. “Sure, Poe. One day I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Alright. Good night.”

“Night.”

Poe settled back down on his couch. It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but it was the answer he’d been expecting—a vague agreement to tell him at some future point. But he’d take it, because he knew that someday, one day would come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course Jess has a thing for the bad boy. Is anyone actually surprised?
> 
> I've been watching a lot of "Leverage" recently, so the Hy'thor Group might (definitely) be reflecting that.
> 
> Also, what Jess says to Lompiach roughly translates to "May he return to stardust." I used Google Translate to translate the phrase to Norwegian (I chose Norwegian because I imagine Dandoran culture to be a little pirate/Viking-ish and I needed a language because I can't make up a language, so it made sense). If it's wrong, sorry. I don't actually speak Norwegian. 
> 
> This chapter is longer than I expected it to be, but I'm happy with how it turned out and what it adds.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

The next morning, Lompiach informed them that Yashi and Sible would be driving them to town.

Jess thanked him for his assistance and for letting them stay the night before the Nalroni disappeared without another word.

“He’s like that. You remember,” Sible said. “This way.” The woman led them through a door and into a garage, where Yashi was waiting with the hovercraft: his helmet in one hand and the blindfolds from yesterday in the other.

“Blindfolds again?” Jess asked.

“I’ll let you take them off once we’re halfway to town,” Yashi offered.

“What a gentleman,” Jess said with an eye roll before Yashi tied the blindfold over her eyes. Poe noticed how his touch lingered on her shoulders before he leaned in and kissed the crook of her neck. “Yashi,” she said warningly.

“Sorry,” He replied and stepped away from her.

“Your turn, Poe,” Sible said as she approached him with the blindfold.

Once the two pilots were blindfolded, they were lead to the hovercart and put in the back seat.

“Oh, we get to sit in seats this time?” Jess said.

“Would you prefer the back?” Sible asked.

“Nope, seats are great,” Jess replied with a tone that indicated she was grinning.

The craft shifted as Yashi and Sible climbed in and started up the engine. Poe felt the ship reverse out of the garage and take off back towards town. He followed along with his mental map as they went.

“You can take off your blindfolds now,” Yashi’s voice said, but it sounded different. Once Poe had removed his blindfold, he could see why: Yashi had put his helmet on, completing the intimidating Mandalorian image.

“Why are you wearing that?” Jess asked.

“People don’t mess with a Mandalorian. Especially if they don’t know who’s under the helmet,” Yashi replied.

“So you’ve convinced everyone you’re one of _those_ Mandalorians,” Jess grinned.

“Just the town,” Sible grinned.

Poe looked at the passing geography. It was gray, rocky, and rugged. There wasn’t much variation: a little bit of vegetation here and there, a few trees, and only a handful of homesteads dotted the landscape. The paths in the ground seemed to be made by heavy machinery and sheer will rather than any natural event. Every so often, they passed a terraformed plot of land that was shockingly green in a world of grey. Poe had grown up on a farm and knew how hard the work was on a planet that had fertile soil and a temperate climate. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it was to farm here.

“Why do people live here?” Poe asked aloud, not to anyone in particular.

“Ibanjji is a good place to disappear,” Sible responded. “It’s a hard existence, but the people who come here are usually hiding from something. They’ll take hard over dead any day.”

“There have got to be better places to hide than this rock,” Poe said.

Sible grinned. “If you hadn’t been forced to stop, would you ever have come here?”

“Guess not,” Poe agreed.

“A lot of the equipment was already here, too. The Empire used this planet as a training camp and left behind just about everything that you’d need to terraform the land. The settlements are mostly built up around the old Empire training grounds. The settlers stripped the facilities of anything useful and abandoned the buildings, but the equipment was too hard to move, so they stuck close. There are, what, twenty settlements planetwide?” Sible asked Yashi.

“About,” Yashi agreed.

“Why would the Empire come here?”

“Toughen up the recruits. It takes a certain type of person to survive out here,” Sible said. “Plus, far as we know, there was no one for them to fight to claim the planet.”

“No population?” Jess asked.

“Not unless you count the varns or the estaries,” Yashi said.

“Varns? Estaries?”

“Two creatures with a symbiotic relationship. Varns are nasty beasts. They’re about the size of an Akk dog with six legs and four eyes. They have these thick shells that allow them to survive rockslides—blasters are useless against them. Hell, anything short of a laser cannon is pretty useless against them. They hunt in packs in the canyons,” he explained.

“What about estaries?”

“Estaries are a type of bird. Small, grey, leathery-looking—excellent camouflage. Most of the locals ignore them, but their song attracts other wildlife. It’s a pretty sound. It kind of reminds me of the kuakua birds on Bardotta. They live out in the rocks, too. They mainly eat insects, but will pick a carcass clean if the opportunity arrives,” Yashi said.

“The estaries build their nests near the varn dens and the presence of the varns keeps the nests safe. But the song of the estaries draws in unsuspecting prey, which the varns eat,” Sible continued.

“Charming,” Jess muttered. “So who lives here now? More pirates?”

“No,” Sible laughed. “They’re mostly good people. Tough and hardy—you know the type. Rough around the edges. You have to be to make a life out here. Most of them were threatened by the Empire and wanted nothing to do with a new political body when the New Republic came into existence.”

“So they came to a former Empire training camp?” Poe asked. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Jess countered. “What better place to hide than a place the Empire already determined was void of colonies?”

“Exactly,” Sible nodded. 

In the distance, Poe could make out the edges of the town. “What about the stuff the Empire didn’t leave behind? If they’re not connected to the New Republic, how do they get supplies? Repair equipment?”

“That’s where we come in,” Yashi said. “We provide a monthly supply run and they turn a blind eye to our…let’s call them _dealings_.”

“Doesn’t that break the Code?” Jess asked.

“The Code is ‘Crew First’. If that means we need to pay off the town with a supply run to do it…” Yashi shrugged, “so be it.”

Jess huffed a humorless laugh. “So now the Code is flexible.”

“Circumstantial,” Yashi corrected.

“Of course,” Jess replied. The words were innocuous enough, but Poe could hear the anger in her tone. He glanced at Jess. She was clenching her jaw and shaking her head, something he’d seen her do before when she was trying to calm herself down. Poe reached over and squeezed her hand. A smile flickered across her face.

The rest of the journey passed in silence as the houses they passed became more numerous and the definition of the town became clearer. Yashi slowed the hovercart down as they entered the town and brought it to a stop just outside the shop where Lompiach and his crew had first cornered Jess and Poe.

“Thanks for the ride,” Jess said as she stepped out of the hovercart.

“I’m glad I got to see you,” Yashi said as he walked to the back of the cart and offered Jess her bag. She took it and slung it over her shoulder.

Jess hesitated and sighed before she spoke. “Look, we’re gonna have to report what happened to that moon to Command.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Yashi nodded.

“So I think you all should clear out of the sector for a few days. Just...go lay low somewhere. Alright?”

“Worried about us, Pava?”

“Just don’t want you to get caught. You helped us, now I’m helping you.”

“We’ll take it under consideration,” he said. “Take care of yourself, Pava.”

“You, too.”

“My offer stands, you know. If you change your mind.”

Jess smiled and kissed his helmet. “Until our paths cross again.”

Yashi nodded once. “Until then.”

“Pava—don’t die,” Sible said from her seat in the cart.

“I’ll do my best,” Jess replied. “You do the same, Sible.”

Sible gave her a lazy salute before looking down at her datapad.

“Poe,” Yashi said, walking over to be face to face with him. Poe hadn’t noticed before how much taller the Mandalorian was than him. He was…intimidating.

“Yes?”

“You’ll look out for her,” Yashi said, jerking his thumb at Jess. It wasn’t a question.

“Of course,” Poe said.

“If I hear differently, I’ll find you,” Yashi whispered, the threat in his voice clear.

“She can take care of herself,” Poe replied, “but she’ll never have to alone.”

Poe could feel the Mandalorian’s gaze, even if he couldn’t see his eyes. “This is the Way.”

Yashi turned around and climbed back into the hovercart. With a final wave, he started the engine and turned the vessel around to head back out of town towards their compound. 

Once the hovercart had disappeared from view, Jess turned to Poe. “Shall we?” she asked, motioning in the direction of their ships.

“Lead the way,” Poe said.

As they walked, Poe tossed the flexhose from hand to hand. “Seriously, this is all we needed? We should just carry this in the repair kit.”

“Like I said last night, standard starfighter repair kits have two feet of flexhose in them. But since these ships are training ships—no one expects them to need this kind of maintenance,” Jess replied. “Honestly, you fly in a starfighter daily and you don’t even know what’s in your repair kit?”

“I haven’t needed it,” Poe retorted. “And that’s dumb. We should have a full repair kit in the training ships, too.”

Jess laughed. “Take it up with Commander Ravik. She’s in charge of the training ships.”

“I will,” Poe said.

They continued on down the path, their boots crunching on the still-damp ground. The cool air of a post-storm morning was refreshing and a pale sun had managed to break through the thick cloud cover. It was nice—or, well, as nice as Poe suspected this planet could be.

Eventually, Poe broke the silence. “So…you gonna tell me about it?”

“About what? The Hy’thor group?”

“Or about you and your Mandalorian, Yashi. I’d take either,” Poe said. He waited—concerned he might have crossed one of Jess’s lines.

“You were eavesdropping?” Jess raised an eyebrow.

“Yes?” Poe answered. Lying to her right now seemed like a particularly bad idea.

She narrowed her eyes at him briefly before she smirked and gave a shrug. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“You weren’t exactly subtle about it, either,” Poe grinned, relieved that she wasn’t upset. “Not to mention he just kind of threatened me.”

“He what?” Jess asked, her eyes wide with a combination of shock, annoyance, and embarrassment.

“It’s fine,” Poe brushed it off. “I didn’t know you were into older men.”

Jess shook her head. “We had a thing. It was a phase,” she said with a quirk of her lips.

“I mean, I can _see_ why you were into him—older, handsome, suave, mysterious, _a_ _Mandalorian_.”

“You are really hung up on him being a Mandalorian, aren’t you?” Jess laughed.

“You don’t meet one every day. Or find out that your friend has had…relations with one.”

“Sounds like you’re into him, Dameron. Do you want me to set you up on a date?” Jess asked.

“No,” Poe said with a laugh. “I’m just saying he seems like a good guy.”

“Yeah…so ’good’ isn’t really the word I’d use for him,” Jess corrected him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Look, he might be all the things you said, but he’s also single-minded, ruthless, conniving, and dangerous.”

Poe cringed. “Ok, so maybe not a good guy. Why’d you date him, then?”

“We didn’t date.”

Poe rolled his eyes. “So why did you do whatever you did with him?”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I know absolutely nothing about your personal life and I’ve learned more in the last 16 hours than I have learned in the last two years.”

“You know about me.”

“No, Jess, I don’t. I know next to nothing about you,” Poe said. This wasn’t how he’d planned this conversation to go or when he’d planned to have it, but here they were.

Jess narrowed her eyes and bit her lip. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Jess nodded slowly. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I have played it a little too close to the vest. Ok…what do you want to know about Yashi and me? You can ask five questions and I promise I’ll answer them.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.”

“Ok, how did you meet him?”

“Ran into him in a cantina. _Literally_ ran into him. He bought me a drink and we talked. Turned out we were both looking for something. I needed some help: a discreet and fast ride off planet. He needed cheap labor. It was a perfect match.”

“Where was that?”

“Spaceport on Raxus.”

“Why—”

“You sure you want ‘Why were you on Raxus?’ to be one of your questions?” Jess asked with a smirk.

“Nope. Good point. Alright…so why did you date him or whatever you want to call it?”

“I was young and on my own for the first time,” she huffed a laugh. “I didn’t know what I know now. I had just gotten out of a rough situation and I needed help. He was nice and…protective of me. I mean, how couldn’t I feel safe and protected with a Mandalorian looking out for me? And you were right—he was charming and handsome and loyal and…it felt good. Being with him felt better than anything had in a really long time,” she finished softly

“You said that you weren’t good for each other. What does that mean?”

“It means that I’m pretty sure the worst in me brought out the worst in him. And vice versa. His worst traits made me callous and selfish and careless. And mine made him confrontational and ruthless. By the time I left, there was more resentment and bitterness and annoyance than love...” Jess’s voice trailed off. “In the end, it wasn’t good for either of us anymore.”

“Did you love him?”

Jess considered that for a moment. “In some ways.”

“What does that mean?”

“That’s six.”

“No. You said you’d answer my questions and you only half answered that last one,” Poe argued.

“Fine. I loved how I felt around him. I loved how he loved me. And I loved the idea of him. But I didn’t love what he brought out of me, or what I brought out of him. I realized one day that I didn’t like who I was when I was with him, so…I left,” Jess shrugged. “To answer your question…I don’t know that I ever loved _him._ Does that make sense?” she asked.

“Not really.”

“Not to me, either,” Jess laughed.

“If it didn’t make sense to you, how did you know it was time to leave?”

Jess bit her lip. “That’s a good question. Um…I think it was that I felt like everything was tight—my muscles, my skin, my nerves, even my bones. All of me. I was always angry or agitated and on edge and it made me sloppy. Careless.”

“I can’t imagine you being sloppy or careless.”

“That’s why I knew it was time to go,” she said.

"He didn't come after you?"

"If he did, he never found me," Jess shrugged.

"Bastard."

“You know what the worst part of it is?”

“What?”

“I think we were scared.”

“Of what?”

“That it could’ve actually worked. That if we’d…put in the work…we could have been good together.” She smiled sadly. “We could have fixed the things that didn’t work. And I know that the best parts of me wanted to love him, but the worst parts of me didn’t want to work on us and didn’t want to love him.”

“Why not?” Poe asked. He knew he was pushing well past the offered five questions, but she was still talking and he felt lucky.

“I was young and broken and didn’t know how to handle that kind of relationship,” Jess said. “I wasn’t in a good place. And he was broken in his own ways. And broken people…if their broken pieces don’t fit together to create something close to whole, they don’t help each other.”

“You’re not—”

“Poe, you don’t know enough about me to know how broken I am,” Jess cut him off.

“I’d like to, though.”

Jess nodded. “I know you think you would. But…the idea of telling you everything scares me.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t think you know what you’re saying. And I think that if you know…” she sighed. “I think that if you know the truth about me, you’ll know I’m not worth your time.”

“That will never happen,” Poe swore.

“We’ll see,” Jess said. Her tone told Poe that she didn’t believe him. 

They fell back into an almost comfortable silence. Poe thought he could hear the estaries singing, and made note of the direction—just in case the varns were out hunting. As they continued on their way back to their ships, a realization dawned on Poe and a smile spread across his face.

The expression didn’t escape Jess’s notice. “What’s that look for?” she asked.

“Jessika Pava just told me something personal about her life,” Poe grinned. “I feel special.”

“Shut up,” Jess laughed.

A flash of metal caught Poe’s eye. He stepped off the trail and walked around a large boulder to get a better look at what had drawn his attention.

“What is it?” Jess asked, trailing behind him.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones who crashed on this rock.” He pointed to another ship. “Too bad they weren’t here earlier. Maybe they could’ve helped us.” Poe could see a couple of figures outside of the ship inspecting the hull. “Wonder if they hit the remnants of that moon, too.”

Poe pointed out the ship to Jess once she’s caught up to him. When she saw it, her body went rigid and her smile fell from her face. Her gaze was fixed on the ship. “We need to go. Now,” she said, her voice low.

“What?”

“We need to get out of here. Right now. Move!” Jess hissed and pulled him behind the rock and out of view of the ship. “Do you think they saw us?” she asked.

“I don’t know. It’s likely, though, we’re not exactly camouflaged,” Poe said, gesturing to their orange flight suits.

“Kriff.” She swore and pushed him back towards their X-Wings. “Come on!” she said and took off at a sprint.

Poe followed close behind her.

“We can’t leave yet. We haven’t installed the replacement hose, so the stabilizer on my ship is still wonky,” he called as he chased after Jess.

“So we’re gonna hope that they didn’t see us. We’ll do the repair as quickly as we can and then get the hell away from here,” Jess said sharply. “Now move.”

They raced down the path, jumping over puddles of rainwater and piles of newly fallen rocks to make it back to the clearing where their X-Wings were waiting.

“Gimme that hose,” Jess said, holding out her hand. Poe tossed it to her. Jess caught it deftly and flipped open the panel she’d been working in. BB-8 released themselves from the astromech dock to come and help her with the ship’s maintenance.

The sound of blaster fire in the distance drew their attention.

“Is that coming from where that ship was?” Jess demanded.

“I think so. But it was closer than the ship,” Poe answered, drawing his own blaster. “Maybe they were shooting at varns.”

“They weren’t,” Jess said darkly.

“Jess, what’s going on?”

“Kriff,” Jess swore and slammed the panel closed.

“Are you done?”

“No, but we don’t have time. We’ve gotta get out of here.” Jess ducked under her ship and opened the cargo hold. She pulled out her Emergency Bag and camo netting and began covering her ship. “Get your E-Bag and camo netting.”

“What?”

“Dameron, I swear by every god on every planet, move,” Jess growled.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Pava!” Poe said.

“I’ll explain later. Right now, get your E-Bag and hide your kriffing ship.”

Poe had never seen Jess like this before. _She’s scared,_ Poe realized. Fear was an emotion that Jess rarely showed. But that ship and whoever was on it more than scared Jess. They terrified her. And if she was terrified, Poe knew he should be, too. He ducked under his ship and pulled out the cargo netting and his E-Bag. He threw the netting over the ship, spreading it out as he went. The silvery netting flickered for a moment before adjusting to the environment and reflecting the stone around it, effectively hiding the X-Wing.

“Beebee-Ate, I need you to hold onto this,” Jess said and offered the droid the flexhose. “Keep it safe until we get back. We need it to get off of this Force-forsaken rock.”

The droid let out a shrill squeal of indignation and turned to Poe.

“No, buddy, you can’t come with us,” Poe said. He didn’t know where they were going, but the terrain of Ibanjji was not droid-friendly. “Look, you’re my backup. If something happens—I need you to send a message to Rapier Squadron, ok?”

BB-8 let out a string of beeps and whirls, arguing that they should be allowed to come with _Their Pilot._

“No. I need you to load back into the ship and put yourself in low power mode. If I’m not back by tomorrow night, contact Muran. Let him know where we are and that we need help. Got it?” Poe waited for BB-8 to give a sullen beep that they understood. “Buddy, you’re our lifeline if something goes wrong, ok?”

“Dameron, let’s go!” Jess said, her anxiety bleeding into her voice. “We’re wasting time.”

BB-8 gave a final beep of acquiescence and rolled back to the ship.

“Thank you,” Poe said to the droid. Once BB-8 was loaded back into the droid dock, Poe pulled the camo netting over the nose of his ship and pulled on his Emergency Bag. He turned to Jess. “Do you know where we’re going?”

“Away from here,” Jess said. She looked around and chose a narrow ravine headed southwest. “This way.”

“We should head back to the Hy’thor compound. They could help us,” Poe said.

“We’d have to pass the _Schrei_ to get there. Too risky.” Jess scrambled over a boulder. “Better to move away from them.”

Poe considered pulling rank on her: he was a Commander and she was still a Cadet. But something about the panic in Jess’s eyes stopped him. Something else caught his attention, though. “Jess—how do you know the name of that ship?” he asked.

“Come on,” Jess said and turned down an adjoining canyon. She didn’t answer his question.

“What’s going on, Pava? You know that ship. Why does it have you so freaked out?” Poe asked as he followed Jess through the rocky canyon.

“It’s not the bloody ship, Dameron! It’s who owns the ship!” she replied. Poe watched how she scanned back and forth as if looking for something. “This planet is the worst! There’s nowhere to hide.”

“So who owns the ship?” Poe asked.

The canyon split again. Jess stopped in her tracks at the fork in the trail. “Shhh. Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Listen,” she said, standing perfectly still. “This way,” she turned and took the path to the right.

“Pava, who is he? Who owns the ship?” Poe demanded.

“His name is Gloarten. He’s a wannabe racer from the Rim,” Jess answered.

“Why are we running from him?”

“Because if he saw us, he’s gonna follow us. And if he finds us…specifically, if he finds _me_ …it’ll be bad.”

“Why would he care about finding you? Is he after you?”

“In a way,” Jess replied cagily. They had reached a dead-end—a rockslide had blocked off the canyon. The only way out was to turn around and go out the way they’d come in or to climb over the rockslide. “We’re going over,” Jess decided and started looking for the best route for them to take over the fallen rocks.

“Why is he after you?” Poe asked, not letting the subject drop.

Jess growled in frustration. “He just is, Dameron.”

“Damnit, Pava! Tell me what’s going on!” Poe shouted.

Jess whipped around and shoved her sleeve up, revealing her tattoo. “Because he ruined my life and I repaid the favor, ok?”

Poe’s voice caught in his throat as he stared at the dark ink on Jess’s forearm: it was a black circle with lines made up of dashes and dots filling the interior. _It's a form of c_ _ompressed binary,_ he realized. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew what that mark meant. “Is that…”

“We’ll talk about it later. Right now, we need to move,” Jess said, pushing her sleeve back down and scurrying up a rocky incline. Poe shook off his shock and followed her up the rocks.

“Do you know where you’re going?” Poe asked.

Jess gave a humorless chuckle. “Not exactly, but I can hear water, so that’s where we’re headed.”

Poe nodded: water was a good thing. Water washed away tracks and scents and was vital to survival.

“So this guy, Gloarten, he’s _that_ bad of news?”

“The worst,” Jess confirmed. “Which is why we need to keep moving.”

They kept running until the ravine opened up into a larger canyon with a clear river running through it.

“Come on,” Jess said as she stepped into the river. The water rushed past her ankles and soaked the bottom of her flight suit. “We’ll head upstream and see what we can find.” 

“Ok,” Poe nodded absently. His body might have been there, but his mind was far from the canyon. He was still reeling from the bombshell Jess had just dropped. But he would follow her, because if she could survive _that_ , she could survive this, too. "Lead the way." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's funny about writing this the way I am is that you all already know what Poe is just finding out. 
> 
> "The Schrei" translates from German to "The Scream" (according to Google Translate). Again, if that's wrong, I don't speak German. Please forgive/correct me. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are my favorite.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

They continued upriver for most of the day, but it didn’t matter to Poe. A day may as well have been a week for all he knew. His mind was elsewhere, still wrapped up with Jess’s tattoo. Of all the things she could have told him, being a former slave was firmly not even in the realm of possibilities he’d considered. It made sense, though, the more he thought about it: how guarded she was, the resentment of authority, her dedication to The Return Project, her need to control her surroundings…it all fit. He wasn’t sure how this scenario _hadn’t_ been in his realm of possibilities.

 _Probably because this possibility was too terrible to have imagined,_ he thought. But once the thought was there, he couldn’t get away from it. What had happened that Jess became a slave? How old had she been? What had she been forced to do? What experiences had she had to make her who she was now? Who had owned her? Who had put that mark on her arm?

Poe’s imagination ran wild with scenarios, each one crueler than the last. Poe’s heart ached for Jess. She was still so young—not even twenty-two. To have that kind of trauma in her background had to influence every part of her. He blinked, forcing the horrific images of an imagined Jess out of his mind and focusing on the real Jess in front of him—here and healthy and free. Whatever had happened to her before, she’d survived it. A tight smile crossed Poe’s face: she was so much more than he’d ever realized she was. She was incredible.

The canyon narrowed and the water grew deeper until it reached their chests. They carried their bags over their heads, hoping to keep the contents of the E-Bags dry. As they walked, Poe saw something silver start to appear out of one of the pouches of Jess’s bag. When he realized what it was, he knew it was already too late.

“Jess!” Poe shouted. “Your datapad!”

Jess moved her hand on her bag to where the datapad had been stored, but it slipped through her fingers. Poe watched in horror as the device fell out of her bag and tumbled into the water.

“Kriff,” Jess muttered. “Hold this,” she said, handing her bag over to Poe and ducking down into the water. She surfaced seconds later with her datapad in hand

“How bad?” Poe asked.

Jess wiped the water from her eyes before she tried to tap a few buttons. She grimaced. “It’s totally waterlogged. If we were home, I could fix it, but…” she sighed. “This is perfect. Do you have yours?”

“Yea—no,” Poe realized suddenly. “It was in my other bag. I left it in the cockpit of my ship. Sorry.”

“Fuck,” Jess hissed. “Ok. Well, let’s hope that one of these E-Bags has an E.R.I.K. in it.”

Their progress was slow through the deep water. Poe didn’t know how many hours had passed but knew that the sun had passed directly over the canyon and was now out of sight again. He was starting to get concerned. He couldn’t stop his brain from thinking of any contingency plan, but so far, he had none. All of the ways that things could go badly ran through his head: what if the water got deeper; what if they didn’t find a shore before nightfall; what if a flood came; what if the people chasing them caught up. Normally he was a pretty optimistic guy, but there weren’t a lot of options in the canyon and time wasn’t on their side.

Slowly, the water level lowered and the riverbank grew from a sliver of sand to a more substantial ledge of dry ground. _So, maybe we won’t drown at least_ , Poe thought.

“Look,” Jess said, pointing ahead. “The trees are thicker up there. There might be a place for us to hide out.”

Poe cleared his throat, realizing how long it had been since he’d spoken. “Good. Good,” he nodded.

Jess turned and looked at him. “So you’re gonna be like that?” she said, her tone bordering on dejected

“Like what?” Poe asked. He could hear the tenseness in his voice and knew Jess could, too.

“Right, great.” Jess let out a sigh. “It was good while it lasted,” she muttered

“What did you say?” Poe asked.

“Nothing. This way.”

Poe trailed behind her. He wished he knew where her head was. What she was thinking. What she was running from.

They continued upstream, the treeline their new goal. The water level continued to drop, but the current was increasing as they drew closer. The water, Poe was pretty sure, was also colder.

“I think there’s a lake up here,” Jess said.

“Why do you think that?”

“More trees, colder and faster runoff—usually means a lake,” Jess replied. “Come on, Dameron, it hasn’t been that long since you took survival classes at the Academy. This terrain is straight from the textbook.” It sounded like teasing, Poe thought, but the delivery was wrong. Jess was on edge and it was twisting her words and making them sharp and dangerous.

“Ok,” Poe responded evenly. Jess hadn’t spoken in that tone to him for over a year and he knew that tone meant that she was liable to strike out unprovoked. She mostly struck out with her words, but striking out with her blaster wasn’t out of the question.

The water level continued to drop and the current continued to speed up until it was no longer practical for them to walk in the river. They stepped onto the sandy shore and kept heading upstream.

“Do you hear that?” Poe asked suddenly. Jess paused and listened.

“What is that?

“It’s a waterfall, I think,” Poe said.

“Probably the river’s headwaters. Spillover from the lake,” she said. “Come on.”

As they walked the sound grew louder until the dull roar echoed in Poe’s ears. After another hour of hiking, they turned a corner of the canyon to find the waterfall. It wasn’t very tall—only about seven meters—that crashed down into a small but deep lagoon. They walked around the edge of the lagoon to the rock wall on the right side of the waterfall, which looked like it would be easier to climb than the rock wall on the left.

“I’ll go first,” Poe offered.

“Oh, will you?”

“I spent my childhood climbing the Massassi temples. This’ll be easy,” Poe grinned.

“Well then, be my guest,” Jess said, motioning to the cliff.

“Follow my route,” Poe instructed.

“Only if it’s a good one,” Jess replied, her tone unconvinced.

Poe considered the wall and tested out a few handholds before he began his climb. The E-Bag changed his center of balance, but the rockface wasn’t particularly difficult or steep, just slick from the water. He scrambled up the rocks, seeking out sturdy hand and footholds for Jess to mimic on her climb. Once he pulled himself over the top, he let out a chuckle. Jess had been right: the river began at a lake.

“Come on up!” Poe called down. “Nothing up here but a lake.

“Told you so,” Jess muttered as she began her climb. She followed Poe’s route up the rocks move for move until she reached one of the last handholds, less than a meter from the top of the cliff. She reached for the handhold he’d used, but couldn’t get enough traction on the rock to pull herself up. It was too far away.

“Ugh,” Jess grunted. She sighed and looked around. “I think I see a route to the left.”

“Ok, just be careful. That brings you closer to the waterfall and the rocks will be slicker,” Poe said as he watched Jess shift to her left and reach for another hold. The hold was farther away than Poe would have liked, requiring Jess to reach with her whole body for the ledge. As soon as she put pressure on the new hold, there was a loud crack. The rock she was clinging to came loose and dropped into the lagoon below her. Jess was already off-balance and lost her footing. She looked up at Poe with fear in her eyes as she scrambled to correct her position, but it was too little too late: she had overextended herself and was about to fall.

“Shit, No! Jess!” Poe shouted and dove for the cliff edge, praying he was fast enough. He felt the durable canvas of Jess’s flight suit under his fingertips and closed his fist. He tightened his grasp and brought his other hand to wrap around Jess’s wrist.

“I got you,” Poe said through gritted teeth as he helped pull Jess the rest of the way over the cliff ledge. “I got you.”

“Thanks,” Jess gasped.

“Always,” Poe smiled. “I’d never let you fall. I’ve always got you.”

Jess’s face turned dark quickly. “Sure you do,” she muttered.

“What was that?” Poe asked.

“Nothing,” Jess said quietly.

All of Poe’s previous experience with women told him that this ‘Nothing’ was definitely something.

“Let’s keep moving,” Jess said.

They were about a third of the way around the lake from the waterfall when Jess dropped her E-Bag. She stripped down to her compression leggings and grey long-sleeve undershirt before draping her soaked orange flight suit over a branch to dry.

“We’ll make camp here,” Jess said as she pulled her boots back on. “I’m going to set up the tents and check out the area. You get a fire going and get the emergency rations prepped.” She grabbed the tents and disappeared into the trees before Poe could respond.

Poe sighed and dug into his E-Bag for the meals. Both his and Jess’s E-Bags were beaten up; clearly old and used—another thing he would talk to Commander Ravik about. He scowled: much like the repair kit, the E-Bag was incomplete. Aside from the tents that Jess had taken, it had a few ration packs and bars, some water purifying tablets, a flashlight, a basic medkit, an emergency blanket, and a single firestarter. Poe grimaced: no flares, no rope, no knife. For starters. The bag was missing more than half of the equipment a standard E-Bag would have, which was annoying enough, but the worst part was that the most important piece was missing. Poe emptied the bag entirely, hoping he’d missed the emergency beacon, but it wasn’t there.

“Kriff,” he hissed and pulled Jess’s E-Bag over for him to dig through. Her E-Bag was equally incomplete with an odd assortment of standard items, but was missing the water purifying tablets and had an old A99 aquata breather.

No spare datapad. No emergency locator beacon. No mapping device. No additional weapons. No Electronics Rescue Immersion Kit. Poe gritted his teeth—this was not good. He forced a deep breath in, held it, and exhaled through his nose. There wasn’t anything he could do about the E-Bags now, so he did the two things he could do: he started a fire and began prepping the ration packets.

While he waited for the fire to heat up, he took off his own flight suit and hung it near Jess’s. The flight suit’s lining had done a pretty good job of keeping them dry for most of the day, but by the end of their journey in the river, it’s insulative properties had begun to fail. He sighed, it felt good to be rid of the sodden clothing, even if he could now feel the cold much more acutely. The fire was warm, though, and he sat as close as he dared as he prepped their ration packets. Ten minutes later, he heard Jess’s boots crunching on the gravelly soil as she returned.

“The tents are up,” Jess said as she sat down on a rock across the fire from Poe. “Not that there’s much cover to conceal us.”

“How far are they from here?

“Twenty meters. Didn’t want to go too far in.”

“Ok. Food’s almost done,” Poe said.

“Good,” Jess said shortly. She pulled one of the E-Bags to her and started sorting through it. Her look of displeasure matched what Poe had felt sorting through the bag not fifteen minutes before.

“I already looked for an emergency locator beacon. There isn’t one,” Poe said. “No E.R.I.K. either.”

“Damn it. Training ship, training supplies,” Jess muttered darkly and shoved the bag away. She didn’t look up to meet Poe’s gaze. “What about our ID tags?” she reached up and pulled the transparasteel tags out of her shirt. “Don’t they have a beacon embedded in them?”

“Not a strong one. You can scan for them and they’ll give off a beacon if you’re close enough, but they’re not traceable from more than a parsec away.”

“Damn it,” Jess repeated. She sighed and looked back at the meager supplies from the E-Bags.

The silence hung heavily around them as the sky darkened, interrupted only by the crackle of the fire and the soft lapping of the lake. Poe kept glancing at Jess, but she was intentionally focused on repacking the bags.

“Am…am I allowed to start this conversation?” Poe asked eventually.

“What conversation?” Jess asked, clearly feigning ignorance. Acting like she hadn’t been pointedly ignoring him for the better part of the afternoon.

“Don’t do that, Jess,” Poe said. He tried to make his voice firm but he knew it came out as tired.

“Do what?”

“This!” Poe said, exasperated. “What you’re doing right now.”

“And what am I doing right now?”

“One and two word answers, pushing me as far away as you can, backsliding to the first six months we knew each other! Being generally… _difficult_ ,” Poe replied. “We finally reached an equilibrium that worked for us. And I’m sorry that we got pushed out of that, and I’m especially sorry if I caused that. I would give anything to go back to before…to not knowing. But we can’t. So now we need to find a new balance. Maybe now you can open up to me. Maybe now…you’ll let me see what’s behind that wall you’ve put up.”

Jess squeezed her eyes closed and bit her lip. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re right, I’m shutting down—shutting you out. I’m being difficult and defensive. It’s not you, I promise. It’s just that this…” she sighed, “this isn’t a conversation I wanted to have with you.”

“When were you planning on telling me about it?”

Jess scoffed. “Never.”

“Why not?”

“I just…really didn’t want it to be a thing,” she said. He could tell she was trying to keep her tone light and friendly, but the look on her face was one of distress and dejection.

“You didn’t want what become a thing?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Jess said with a clenched jaw.

“If this is about your tattoo…we can drop it. We can leave it alone and ignore it for now. Force knows we have enough to worry about. But…we’ll have to talk eventually.”

“Can we just…pretend for a little while longer that you don’t know?”

“Sure, Jess,” Poe nodded. “We can do that. Just…know I’m here, ok? I’m not going anywhere.”

Jess gave a weak smile. “Sure thing, boss.”

Poe could tell Jess didn’t believe him, but he also knew that what she’d said was as much as he was going to get from her at this point. So he nodded and handed Jess one of the ration packets. “Eat up,” Poe said.

“Goodie,” Jess said, her tone and smile almost back to normal. “Hell of a planet you picked here, Boss.”

“Only the best,” Poe grinned. “Just like my meal service.”

“My compliments to the chef,” Jess said, raising the packet in salute. It seemed to Poe that Jess had managed to push whatever was bothering her, whatever she wasn’t ready to tell him, out of her mind. At least, for the time being.

“Find anything around the lake?” Poe asked.

“Not really,” she shrugged. “A few caves farther north, maybe a few more stream or river headwaters. Best I can tell, it’s a spring-fed lake. There’s no evidence of varying water levels or any changes in erosion.”

“Anything in the caves?”

“Not that I saw, but I’m not about to go too deep into a dark cave on an unfamiliar planet this close to sundown,” Jess smirked.

“Fair enough,” Poe laughed and took a bite of his dinner.

The rest of their dinner conversation was shallow, and Poe knew it. They talked about Jess’s classes at the Academy and the professors who taught them, the planets they’d visited, and Poe’s favorite ration packet flavors, but nothing personal. Jess had carefully steered the conversation away from herself, and Poe hadn’t tried to bring up anything from the last two days.

After dinner, Jess sat quietly picking at the polish on her nails. Poe didn’t think he’d ever noticed that Jess wore nail polish before.

“I never would have pegged you for the manicure type,” Poe said conversationally. “Special occasion?”

“You noticed that about me?” Jess asked incredulously.

“I notice things about you.” He was a little hurt that Jess didn’t think he noticed her.

“Oh really?” Jess raised her eyebrows. “I thought you said you know next to nothing about me.”

“That’s low,” Poe replied. He was cautious—Jess was teasing right now, but today had been long and hard for both of them and her mood could change at any minute. And he wouldn’t blame her: he felt like his mood could change any moment, too, and he had less reason for it. “I know _some_ things about you.”

“Then why are you surprised by nail polish? I always have it on."

“Do you?” Poe asked.

“Yeah.”

“I guess you usually have your flight gloves on when I see you,” Poe said.

“So why am I not the manicure type?” Jess asked. “Come on, tell me. Why not?”

“I dunno. It’s been my experience that someone who can disassemble and reassemble a starfighter engine usually doesn’t care about oil under their nails or about the appearance of their nails.”

“That’s why I do it,” Jess said.

“Will you explain that to me?” Poe asked.

Jess sighed. “It’s a reminder that I can choose this.”

“If this is too close to…you know, we don’t have to talk about it,” Poe said.

Jess quirked an eyebrow. “Only you could somehow make a leap from nail polish to the thing you said we could ignore for the night.” She leaned her head back and looked down her nose at Poe.

“I’m not wrong, though, am I?”

Jess considered Poe for a moment. “You actually wanna talk about that?”

“Not like there’s a lot on my agenda for tonight,” Poe said. “Only what you want to tell me, though,” he added quickly. “I won’t push.”

Jess smiled ruefully. “It’s fine. You deserve to know why we’re in this mess.”

“Nope. This is your life. You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to.”

“You’re being nice. That’s always a dangerous sign,” Jess tried to tease.

“Jess…” Poe started, but he didn’t know what he wanted to say.

“I’m sorry,” Jess said, “about earlier. I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have treated you like that. We’d just lost our one datapad and I was…tired and hungry and drenched and scared. And I took it out on you. You didn’t deserve that. I’m not trying to give you an excuse…just an explanation for why I acted that way. I am so sorry.”

“And now?”

“Still tired. Still scared. But…better. Ish.”

“Jess, today’s been a lot. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Poe said, giving her an out.

“No, I want to tell you. What do you want to know?”

Poe took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how much Jess would give him, but if she was willing to answer, Poe had plenty of questions. _Well, go big or go home,_ he thought. “Who is Gloarten?”

Jess nodded. “Fair enough. Gloarten is a Devaronian. He lives on one of the moons of Devaron and, to my most recent knowledge, still races illegally on the Outer Rim.”

“Yeah, you’ve already told me that part. I’m far more interested in how he connects to that tattoo on your arm. Why does he scare you?”

“I know you’ve caught a glance at it once or twice. So…you know what that tattoo means, right?”

“I hadn’t ever gotten a very good look at it before. But I had my suspicions. Now that I’ve seen it, though, I know what it is.”

“What is it?” Jess asked. He looked up at her: she was gonna make him say it.

Poe swallowed thickly. “It’s a Slave’s Mark.”

Jess nodded. “Can you read it?”

“Not really. It’s Compressed Binary, though, right? Represented by dots and dashes? I know there are specialized readers for them, but most droids can read them, too.”

“Yeah.”

“So no on the reading, but I know how they’re laid out—what the lines mean.”

Jess pulled up her sleeve and showed him the tattoo.

“These,” Poe pointed to the first lines, “are your basic information. Name, birthdate, chaincode, home planet, unique skills…pur—“ he hesitated and cleared his throat, “purpose, stuff like that. The next line would have your first sale date and who you were sold to. The next line is any skills that you were taught by that…” Poe cleared his throat again, “master. The next series of lines are any subsequent masters and skills.” Poe’s fingers traced gently over the mark. He knew how the mark worked, but that didn’t make it any less painful to see it on Jess’s arm or to understand what it meant that it was there.

“You’re pretty knowledgeable about this,” Jess said softly.

“I did some work with The Return Project when I was at the Academy. I know the mark.”

“And you didn’t recognize it on me?”

“I don’t think I wanted to.” Poe looked back down at the dark mark on Jess’s skin, his fingers ghosting over the dark ink. “The black filling the last third of the circle—I’m not familiar with it.”

“That’s from when I won my freedom. When you’re freed, they fill in the rest of the current circle.”

“Current circle?”

Jess sighed. “If you’re in long enough, the data from your past owners will fill a circle. And so your next sale starts a new circle. I knew slaves who had a chain of circles from elbow to wrist.”

Poe vaguely remembered seeing people with multiple circles on their forearms when he was working the desk at The Return Project. He also thought he might remember some of his parent's friends from the Rebellion with multiple circles on their arms, but wasn't sure if they were Slave Marks or something else. He cleared his throat and turned back to Jess. “So how’d you get out?”

“Told you—I won my way out.”

“How?”

“Win enough credits, win my freedom. Those were the rules of his game.” Jess’s tone was bitter. “The odds were stacked against me, but I still won.”

Poe nodded slowly. “Which line is Gloarten?"

“The last one.”

“So you beat him at his own game. And now he’s mad.”

Jess laughed humorlessly. “Something like that,” she said and pushed her sleeve back down.

“So why nail polish?” Poe asked, going back to his original question.

"Not gonna let that go, are you?" Jess said with a wry smile.

"Not unless you tell me to." 

"It's...stupid," she muttered.

"I don't believe that." 

Jess sighed. “You don’t have the luxury of caring about what you look like when you’re a slave. So when I won my freedom, I had to figure out what I wanted to look like—who I wanted to be. And I found that I didn’t care that much about makeup or hair or whatever, but…for whatever reason, seeing color on my fingernails was so grounding. It helped me remind myself that I wasn’t a slave anymore, so I kept doing it. When I get lost in the dark parts of my mind, when anxiety and panic make it hard to breathe, I can look down and see a riot of color and _know_ that I made the choice to put this color on my body and it helps me to remember that I’m free. Helps me find my way back from those dark places in my mind," she finished with a shrug.

Poe nodded thoughtfully. Nail polish seemed like a strange way to remember one’s freedom, but if it worked for Jess, he wouldn’t question it.

“Anything else you want to ask?” Jess asked.

 _Hundreds of things_ , Poe thought. But he decided to get the ones he thought she’d get the most upset about out all at once. “Did you have a, um…”

“Inhibitor chip?” Jess supplied.

“Yeah. But never mind. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Jess moved to sit next to him and pulled her hair over her shoulder. She took Poe’s hand and brought it to the base of her skull, just below her hairline, and pushed his fingers on a small but jagged scar. “It was taken out when I won my freedom,” she whispered.

Poe gently traced the scar back and forth, his mind racing. There were so many things he wanted to say, and even more that he wanted to ask, but it all felt woefully lacking to what he was feeling. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” Jess whispered.

Poe didn’t know what to do. He felt entirely inadequate for this situation. There was no way he could be what Jess needed, but he was all that was available. A memory from his childhood of Shara Bey rubbing his back when he’d been upset came to his mind. What Jess was feeling was so much bigger than anything he had ever experienced, but he had to do something or he would go insane. And he doubted that someone had soothed Jess like that in years—certainly not since her parents died. She had been alone for a long time and Poe hated that. He wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone anymore. He moved his hand from the scar on Jess’s neck to her back and began to rub soothing circles into her tense muscles. Jess leaned forward and sighed, relaxing under Poe’s touch.

“What the hell did we stumble into here, Pava?” Poe groaned.

“Pirates, slavers, shadowy militant groups,” Jess listed. “Who knew the Mieru'kar sector was so busy?” 

Poe huffed a laugh. “This was supposed to be a fun break from SIM training. Not some interstellar intrigue. ”

“Best laid plans,” Jess sighed. 

“Sorry, Jess.”

“Not your fault.”

“We’ll get out of here. I promise.”

Jess sat up with a groan. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I’ll move planets to keep that one.”

“I’m not sure I’m worth moving planets for,” Jess said ruefully. 

Those words hurt Poe more than he’d expected them to. “Jessika Pava, you listen to me: I would move every planet in the galaxy if it meant keeping you safe.”

Jess smiled, but Poe could tell that she didn’t believe him.

“If we can’t get out of here on our own, we’re screwed, you know,” Jess said, changing the subject.

“Don’t talk like that,” Poe said. “Fatalism doesn’t suit you.”

“I mean it. We could walk for weeks without finding anyone. Sible was right: planetwide, there are about 20 settlements. That’s it. There’s no one out here.“

“The NRDF will send a search party.”

“To Jerne. That’s where you told them we are. They won’t come here,” Jess shook her head. “We have no beacon, my datapad is dead and yours is back with the ships, and Ibanjji is barely a dot on a star chart. There’s nothing here to make people think this is where they’d find us.”

“Beebee-Ate will contact Muran,” Poe said confidently

“You think Rapier will just come? Without anything more than a weird message from your droid?”

“I do,” Poe said. He did not doubt that Muran would come if asked. The same went for Kun and Arana.

“It must be nice to have that much confidence in other people.”

“You seemed pretty confident in Lompiach’s group,” Poe countered.

Jess chuckled. “Confident they wouldn’t kill us. Not confident about much else.” 

“Why not?”

“When I left—none of them looked for me,” Jess said.

Poe felt his heart clench at that. “Not even Yashi?”

“Not even him,” Jess confirmed. “That’s why I got mad when you saved my life today. You said ‘I’ve always got you.’ Yashi used to say that, too. But then when I left—when I was alone and freefalling, he wasn’t there.”

“I’m sorry he did that to you,” Poe said.

“Can’t say I trusted many people after that.” She laughed humorlessly. “Not that I trusted many before.”

“You can trust me, Jess,” Poe said.

“I’d like to hope that I can,” Jess said with a sad smile.

“I’ll prove it to you,” Poe swore.

Jess’s smile grew. It was still small, but more genuine. “I’d like that.” She took a deep breath and looked up at the unfamiliar sky. “I never thanked you, did I?”

“For what?”

“For saving my life today,” she said, meeting Poe’s gaze.

“You did in the moment.”

“You deserve better,” Jess said with conviction. “So thank you for saving me today. And for saving me every other time. I mean it: you’ve saved me in more ways than you’ll probably ever know.”

Poe smiled at her. “Always.”

\----

The next morning, Poe and Jess pulled on their dried flight suits. Sleep had done a world of good for both of them, and Jess was in a much better mood than she had been the night before. The fatalistic and dejected shadow had vanished and had been replaced by the confident bravado Poe knew.

“So I was thinking—if we go to the far side of the lake and then continue to head northeast, we might be able to get back to the town. And from there, maybe we can get back to Lompiach’s compound. Get some help to get out of here,” Jess said, shrugging on her E-Bag.

“I thought you didn’t trust them.”

“I don’t trust them, but they owe me.”

“Why do they owe you?” Poe asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“I saved Lompiach and his dad Ompiach’s lives a few years back,” Jess said with a grin.

“With Yashi?”

“Yeah. It’s how we first met the Hy’thor Group.”

“I’d love to hear that story,” Poe said as he lifted his own bag.

“I think we’ll have the time,” Jess said.

Poe opened his mouth to respond but stopped. Something felt wrong. He looked around, trying to find what was putting him on edge.

“Poe? Everything alright?” Jess asked.

“Something feels off,” Poe said quietly.

Jess glanced around, suddenly on high alert. All traces of her good mood were now gone. “We’ve been here too long. We should get moving,” she said in a low voice.

“Yeah, the sooner we go, the better,” Poe nodded and slipped his bag onto his shoulders. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this place,” he said.

Jess nodded as the pair began to walk around the lake in silence.

“See that gap in the trees?” Jess asked softly, breaking the silence. Poe looked where she was pointing across the lake.

“Yeah. Looks like another headwater,” Poe said.

“It’s heading in the right direction for the town. Think we should follow it?”

“Civilizations usually build up around water. Seems as good a shot as any,” Poe agreed. 

They had almost made it to the second stream’s headwaters when a crunch of gravel and a flash of movement caught Poe’s attention.

It was all the warning they had before two figures stepped out from the trees and pressed blasters to the backs of their heads.

“Don’t move,” a low voice growled. Poe glanced at Jess as he raised his hands above his head. She looked back with an expression somewhere between fear, sadness, defeat, and resignation before she, too, submissively raised her hands above her head. He had never seen that expression on her face—hell, he’d never seen her be submissive in any form.

Poe knew that if they hadn’t been before, they were now in serious trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jess is having a bad day and isn't processing it well. She's being defensive and reverting to her pre-Academy ways. Her psytech would have things to say about that (not in this story, though). 
> 
> I struggled with this chapter and am still not 100% happy with it, but works. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

Poe grit his teeth as his hands were cuffed in front of him and a bag was pulled over his head. He thought that one of their attackers may have been a Weequay, but didn’t get a clear enough look at either of them to be certain. Without his sense of sight, his hearing began to compensate: he could hear Jess struggle against her attacker and then the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting a body.

“Quiet,” a rough voice growled. Jess grunted but stopped struggling.

“Move,” Poe’s guard ordered, pushing him forward.

“Where? I can’t _see_ ,” Poe replied, his mouth getting the best of him. For as long as he could remember, he’d shot off at the mouth when he was cornered. Kes always said it would get him in trouble. _Guess he was right,_ Poe thought as he was repaid for his lip with what he thought was an elbow to the stomach.

“Move.” The guard shoved him forward again. Poe grimaced and started forward, blindly stumbling through the sparse trees and into one of the canyons. To his left, he could hear Jess lurching over the rocky terrain.

The sound of Jess falling was loud to Poe’s ears.

“Kriff,” Jess hissed.

“Are you ok?” Poe asked, turning towards where he thought she was.

“Leave her,” his guard said, pulling his shoulder back.

“She’s hurt. Let me help her,” Poe argued before a fist hit him in the shoulder.

“I said leave her,” his guard threatened.

“I’m fine, Poe,” Jess said. He could hear her struggling to get back to her feet.

"Both of you, stop talking," Jess's guard said. “Now get up."

“I’m up, I’m up,” Jess muttered.

“Keep moving,” Poe's guard said with a shove. Poe heard Jess stumble again, but catch herself before she fell.

“Jess,” Poe whispered.

“No talking,” Poe's guard shouted and hit Poe in the back with the butt of his blaster.

Poe hissed in pain, but didn’t say anything.

He had no idea how long they had been walking when his guard grabbed his shoulder.

“Stop,” the guard ordered. Poe complied and listened for Jess to do the same. He heard a lock disengage and a metal door swing open.

“Get in,” Jess's guard ordered. Poe was shoved forward until the metal lip of something bit into his hip. Poe blindly climbed into whatever was in front of him. He heard the guard shove Jess in next to him. She let out a soft hiss of pain and then shuffled farther away from the guards. Something hit Poe in the chest— _the E-Bags,_ he realized—before the door was closed and the electronic lock reengaged.

He waited until he felt the vehicle start moving before he spoke.

“Jess?”

“Well that was fun,” Jess said flatly.

“Are you ok?” Poe asked.

“That’s relative,” Jess replied darkly.

“Are you hurt?” Poe clarified.

“Little banged up, but nothing serious. You?”

“I’m alright. Are your hands cuffed in front of you or behind you?”

“Behind.”

“Mine are in front. I’m gonna try to get the bags off of our heads, alright?” he said. He didn’t wait for her to respond. He reached up and tugged at the bag until he managed to pull it off of his head. Then he shuffled to Jess and pulled the bag off of her head. At first, it seemed like they were in total darkness, but as his eyes adjusted, Poe could see where they were: it was a dark, metal box with a line of evenly spaced holes around the top of the box that let in fresh air and some light. The movement of the box let him know that they were on some kind of vehicle. He blinked, willing his eyes to adjust faster to the dim light. “Where are we?”

“An L.O.C. Box, I’d guess,” Jess said, looking around. “An old one, too, by the sound of it.”

“A what box?”

“Living Organism Cargo Box. They’re usually used to move wild animals for zoos or private collectors or the like—hence the air holes,” she explained and nodded towards the top of the box. “They can be loaded onto the back of a hoversled and then moved onto a ship without having to open the lock.”

“And you know this how?”

“Not my first time in an L.O.C. Box, Boss,” Jess said with a humorless chuckle.

“You mean—?”

“It’s how Gloarten transports his slaves, yeah,” Jess said dejectedly. She picked up her feet and slammed her heels into the metal floor. The metal echoed loudly all around them. “Fuck!” she shouted in frustration.

Poe tried to steady his breathing. He knew Jess’s mind had to be in overdrive right now, with her ‘Fight or Flight’ instinct pushing everything else to the side. She needed him to stay hopeful for her. _He_ needed to stay hopeful for himself, too. “Jess, it’ll be alright. The NRDF will come looking for us and—”

“They won’t find us,” Jess muttered and leaned her head back against the wall.

“Why not?”

“Said it last night: they’re gonna check Jerne. Maybe the moons and planets in the same parsec. They’ll search, but they won’t even be in the right quadrant. They won’t come here.”

“Kriff,” Poe spat.

“We’re on our own out here, Boss.” Jess’s voice wavered and her eyes slid closed. “I’m sorry you got caught up in this. I never meant for anything like this to happen.” 

“No, no, no. Don’t talk like that. This isn’t your fault. Stay with me, Jess. Come on,” Poe slid across the L.O.C. Box and took Jess’s face in his hands. “Don’t shut down on me now. We’ve gotta get out of here.”

“That’s not gonna happen, Poe,” Jess said, her tone defeated. “Most people don’t get one chance to get out of the trade. No one gets two chances to get away.”

“Maybe you do,” Poe argued.

“The odds of us getting out of here are astronomical.” 

Poe gave a valiant attempt at what Karé called his ‘Hero Smile’. “Odds are meant to be defied,” he said. “So let’s figure out a way to get out of here.” 

“Don’t,” Jess said sharply.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t try to ‘Poe Dameron’ this. Don’t give me that daring smile and tell me that we’ll be fine. Because it won’t be. Not this time. There isn’t a way out of here, don’t you get it?” Jess said, her voice sad and tired. “It’s slavery. You think that if I could have just ‘figured a way out of here’ that I would have been his…his _pet_ for so long?” She took a shuddering breath. “There is no way out. This is how it ends.”

Poe’s temper rose in indignation. “Don’t do that. Don’t give up like that,” he challenged. “You told me that you believe in the goodness of the Universe. That the Universe you believe in doesn’t have room for pain without purpose. What is the purpose here if not to survive?“

Jess opened her eyes and looked at him. She stared into his eyes as if she could see his soul. He saw her expression change—soften, almost—when she made her decision. “Ok,” she said quietly.

“Yeah?” Poe asked.

“Yeah,” Jess nodded. “Do you still have your multitool?”

“It’s in my pocket, I think.”

“And any chance you still have a blaster?” she asked.

Poe nodded. “They took the one in my holster, but they missed the one on my ankle.”

“I have a plan to get you out of here. I need you to release my binders, but make them look like they’re still secured. And give me your blaster.”

“It sounds like what you have is a really bad idea.”

Jess grimaced. “Bad ideas are the only kind we have right now.” 

“We could wait it out. Bide our time. When we don’t get back to the ships tonight, Beebee-Ate will send a message to Muran and—”

“And by the time they get here, we’ll either be dead or long gone,” Jess cut him off. “Trust me, Poe, this is the only way that one of us might survive.”

Jess’s words finally registered in his mind: _‘I have a plan to get you out of here.’_ Him. Singular. The realization that the decision Jess made was not the one Poe thought she had hit him like blaster fire. “One of us?” Poe asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach. “What do you mean one of us?”

Jess sighed. “I’m not getting out of this one, Poe. But I’ll get you out.”

“Jess—”

“No,” Jess shook her head. “Once he sees me, he’s not gonna let me go.”

“He might not recognize you.”

Jess huffed a laugh. “Oh, he will.”

“I’m not leaving you behind.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Jess replied harshly. She took a deep breath before she continued softly, “Poe, you asked what the purpose of this pain is if it isn’t to survive. I think the purpose of this pain is for me to help you get out of this and for _you alone_ to survive—"

“Not at the cost of you,” Poe interrupted her.

“—and that’s ok with me,” Jess finished. “You’re the hero, Dameron. I’m a side character in this holovid, always have been. I know that.”

“No,” Poe said firmly, “no, you’re not. You can’t do this.”

“Yes, I can. Poe, you have a life out there—and a whole lot of people who will miss you. Your squadron, your dad, your friends. Me, on the other hand…I can count on one hand the number of people who will actually miss me,” she smiled sadly. “Let me do this. Let me get you out of here.”

“I can’t let you go on a suicide mission for me. I won’t.”

“I’ll die saving you or I’ll be a slave again. I’m dead either way. And at least this way, I’ll go out fighting.” Her lips quirked. “And who knows, maybe some of that patented Poe Dameron luck will rub off on me and I’ll get out of this alive. Doesn’t seem likely, but it’s worth hoping for.” 

Poe knew she didn’t believe what she was saying.

“If I get away—” he started.

“ _When_ you get away,” Jess corrected.

“When I get away,” Poe amended, “and if you’re not with me…if you’re captured…I’ll come for you. I swear to you, I’ll get you back. I’ll bring you home.”

Jess shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

She sighed heavily. “Because I want you as far away from Gloarten as possible. I want you to leave Ibanjji and never look back. I don’t want you to ever think about this place again. I want you to go live the most incredible life,” Jess said, silent tears ran down her cheeks. “I don’t want you to come back for me.”

“I’m not going to leave you here. Not when I could save you,” Poe argued.

“There are other people to save, Poe. A whole galaxy of them. I’m not worth risking your life for.”

“You’re worth the risk, don’t try to change my mind. And I’ll find you. I promise,” Poe swore.

“You’ll try,” Jess said softly. Something that Poe thought sounded like anger colored her voice.

“I’ll succeed,” Poe said. “I’m not going to leave you behind.”

“You might have to.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “And I’m only going along with a plan that gets you out, too. So figure that into your planning, because I’m in this with you.”

Jess scoffed. “Whatever you say, Boss.”

The two rode in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Poe couldn’t help staring at Jess. She had her eyes closed and her head leaned back against the wall of the box. If he didn’t know her as well as he did, she might almost look relaxed. But Poe knew that inside, she was screaming. He could see it in the line of her neck, the angle of her jaw, and the lines by her eyes. Every breath she took was measured, controlled, and practiced. 

Poe had known for almost as long as he’d known her that Jess needed to be in control. It made her an outstanding pilot, but it also gave her anxiety when she couldn’t have that control. And this was the ultimate example of not having control. She was doing everything in her power to keep herself present and not put distance between her mind and what was happening to them. She needed to be present to be sharp and she’d need to be sharp if they were going to survive. He could tell that Jess was working to keep control of the one thing she still could: herself.

“Hey, Poe?” Jess said eventually.

Poe looked over: she had brought her head down to a more natural angle and opened her eyes to meet his gaze. “Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Poe didn’t have to ask what for. He swallowed thickly, his voice caught in his throat. “Always,” he managed.

Jess sighed and cleared her throat. “We need to get ready for when we get back to Gloarten’s camp,” she said, forcing her tone into what Poe thought of as her ‘on mission’ voice. “If we’re gonna escape, we’ll only get one chance, so we need to be ready. Go through the E-Bags, see what they didn’t take. Whatever you can take in your pockets, do.”

Poe pulled one of the E-Bags over to him. It was a struggle to dig into the bags with his hands cuffed, but he was able to slowly dig the assortment of supplies out. He selected a couple of ration bars, the water purifying tablets, a flashlight, the last firestarter, and the A99 aquata breather. The rest of the supplies were shoved back into the E-Bags before Poe managed to get his choices into his pockets. “What’s your plan?”

“Calling it a plan is generous.”

“What do you have?” Poe asked apprehensively.

“A blaster and a bad attitude,” Jess replied with a smirk. “Now let’s see what you can do about these binders.”

It took time, but eventually, Poe was able to get Jess’s binders to release. He slipped his multitool back into his pocket as she unzipped the top half of her flight suit and tied the arms around her waist.

“Aren’t they gonna notice that?” Poe asked.

“They aren’t paid to notice things,” Jess replied. “Where’s that blaster?”

“Left ankle,” Poe said, offering his leg to her.

Jess removed the blaster and pulled the leg of his flight suit back down, covering the holster. She tucked the blaster into the bunched up flight suit at her waist.

“Can you see it?” she asked, turning around and holding her hands behind her back like they were cuffed.

“No.”

“Good,” Jess sat back down. “We should put the bags back on. They _will_ notice that.”

Poe nodded. Apparently, his expression let Jess know what he was thinking.

“It’s gonna be ok, Boss,” Jess said quietly. “You’re gonna get out of here.”

“ _We_ are gonna get out of here,” Poe corrected.

Jess gave a sad smile. “Sure, Boss. We.”

* * *

By the time the vehicle came to a stop, Jess had put the bags back over both of their heads and had arranged the powered-down binders back around her wrists.

Poe heard the lock disengage and the metal door creak open. He and Jess were exactly as they had been when they had been locked away: bound and blindfolded. The guards were none the wiser. And, just as Jess predicted, they didn’t seem to notice the change in Jess’s clothing.

“Get out,” one of them ordered, grabbing Poe’s ankle and pulling him towards the open door. Poe edged himself out of the L.O.C. Box until his toes touched the ground. “Keep moving,” the guard said, grabbing his shoulder and yanked him the rest of the way out of the box. The harsh treatment sent Poe falling to his knees, unable to catch himself without the use of his eyes or his hands.

“Get up,” the guard demanded with a kick to Poe’s ribs. He grunted and managed to get back to his feet.

As he stood, Poe felt something fall out of his pocket. He gritted his teeth: he couldn’t tell what he’d lost, but whatever had fallen was important. _Everything_ he had with him was important. It was too late now, though. It was gone, whatever it was. He just hoped it hadn’t been noticed by the guard.

The guard pulled Poe along before bringing him to an abrupt stop. A blaster was again pressed against his back. He heard the other guard bring Jess to a stop next to him.

The bag was pulled from Poe’s head and the sudden light temporarily blinded him. He squinted as his eyes adjusted. They were back by the large ship they had seen yesterday— _was that really only yesterday?_ Poe thought—and surrounded by armed guards. Jess was next to him, also surveying the scene with a clenched jaw.

“How many do you count?” Poe asked. He’d counted nine.

“Too many,” Jess replied.

“No talking,” Poe’s guard, a Klatooinian, said, shoving him forward.

Jess shot him a sideways glance before continuing forward. Her guard, a Weequay, grabbed her shoulder to stop her.

“Wait here,” he ordered. He looked around until he saw a young boy struggling to carry a large engine component. “You, boy! Where is Gloarten?”

The boy stopped and looked at the Weequay with frightened eyes. He was skinny and dirty with bruises of all colors staining the pale skin of his face and arms. The black circular slave tattoo stood out harshly on his forearm. Poe grit his teeth. It took every ounce of self-control for him to not say anything. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jess clench her jaw and narrow her eyes in fury.

“On the ship, Sir,” the slave said quietly.

“Well then go get him,” the guard ordered threateningly. The boy nodded and left the engine component on the ground and ran up the ramp and into the ship.

Poe glanced at Jess. She was resolutely not looking at him and taking measured breaths as if she was preparing for battle. _She probably is,_ Poe thought.

“Horam! This better be important!” A voice shouted. Jess tensed. Poe looked back towards the ship as a large Devaronian descended the ramp, the slave boy following behind him. Poe had seen Devaronians before, but never one this close or this large. Standing upright, Poe doubted he’d come to the alien’s shoulder, and he was certain that the Devaronian was at least twice his weight. His brown-red skin reminded Poe of drying blood, and his dark horns curled up and back from his forehead. Yellow eyes and pointed teeth completed the demonic and terrifying image. He fully understood why Jess was afraid of this being.

“We found them, Gloarten,” Horam said. “Just like Bott said: two NRDF pilots.”

“Good,” Gloarten said. Poe saw Jess tense again at the sound of his voice.

“What do you want us to do with them?”

“Bring them over here,” the Devaronian said. “And you,” he turned back to the slave boy. The boy cowered away from the giant. “Get that engine fixed. I want it flying by morning.”

The boy’s eyes grew wide, but he nodded and ran back to the abandoned engine component. As he was pushed forward, Poe watched the boy out of his peripheral vision as he struggled to move the large metal piece.

Gloarten turned his attention back to his new captives. “Now let’s see what we’ve…got…here…” he froze, his eyes on Jess. A look of recognition flitted across his face before it was replaced by a cruel smile. “Bring the girl closer to me.”

Horam grabbed Jess’s shoulder and forcefully took to the giant Devaronian. Jess put on a show of struggling, but let herself be led forward. The Weequay pushed her in front of his boss and stepped back from the interaction. Gloarten grabbed Jess’s jaw and forced her to look up at him, turning her head back and forth.

“Well, well, well,” he laughed, “I never thought I’d see you again, _Girl_.” He sneered the last word and Poe saw Jess flinch.

“I _hoped_ I’d never see you again, Gloarten,” Jess shot back and shook her head out of his grasp. Poe could hear the fear in her voice, masked by bravado, but she stood tall: shoulders back, chin held high. “I see you have a new crew,” she said, nodding towards the thugs who had captured them. “Did the rest disappear when your money disappeared? Or did you kill them?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

 _Damnit, Jess, stop goading him,_ Poe thought.

The Devaronian’s face contorted with rage. “Is that any way to talk to your Master?” Gloarten shouted and raised his hand to hit Jess. Before his blow fell, Jess dropped the binders and pulled the blaster from its hiding place at her waist. She aimed it straight at the Devaronian’s chest.

“Might want to rethink that plan,” she said, her voice dangerous and low.

Gloarten eyed the blaster cautiously before he sneered. “Why does she have a blaster?” he shouted, glaring at Horam and the Klatooinian.

The two thugs made eye contact with each other and then looked away, turning their gaze anywhere but back towards their boss. Horam at least had the decency to look embarrassed at their mistake.

“Yeah, second rate helps gives second rate results,” Jess said. “Didn’t check me very well.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re surrounded, Girl,” Gloarten said. “My men are all armed. If I order it, they’ll kill you.”

“Not before I kill you,” Jess replied, tightening her grip on the weapon.

Gloarten smiled. “Maybe. But you’re not alone, are you? You might be willing to risk your life, but what about your friend’s life? Would you risk his?”

A nod from Gloarten was all the warning Poe got before a sharp kick to the back of his leg forced him to his knees. His bound hands did little to help his balance and he landed hard on the rocky ground. The Klatooinian guarding him tangled his fingers into Poe’s hair and forced his head back. The blaster was moved from between his shoulder blades to the back of his head. He focused his eyes on Jess, her blaster still pointed at the chest of the monster in front of her.

“You could kill me. And you might get away from my men. You might get to keep the pathetic excuse of a life you call freedom,” Gloarten said. Then he nodded towards Poe. “But he won’t get away with you. He won’t live long enough for that.”

“You sound certain,” Jess replied. Poe knew it was a stall. Her voice was losing its confidence.

“Choose wisely, scum,” Gloarten growled. “Your friend’s life or your chance at freedom, because you know that cannot have both.”

Poe watched Jess adjust her grip on the blaster as she glared at the Devaronian in front of her. But then her eyes flickered over and found Poe’s.

At that moment, Poe realized what Jess’s plan was: she had known this would happen. She’d lied to him when she said she’d get them both out—she was going to sacrifice herself for him.

“No,” Poe ground out.

“Quiet,” the Klatooinian growled with a sharp tug on his hair.

“What do you want from me?” Jess asked.

“You made me a very rich man,” Gloarten started.

“And then I made you a very poor one,” Jess shot back. “I know that. Get on with it.”

“Indeed,” the Devaronian growled. “And you will pay back every cent of it. With interest. You’ll be lucky if you pay it off before you die.”

“Figured as much.” Jess clenched her jaw.

“Well?”

“He goes free,” she said eventually, nodding her head towards Poe.

“You are in no position to make a deal, _girl,_ ” the Devaronian hissed.

“Kinda looks like I am,” Jess replied, her voice far shakier than Poe had ever heard it before. Her blaster, though, was as steady as ever. “You release him. You put him in a ship and he leaves. _Safely_. Do that, and I’ll race for you. If you don’t…well, you can’t make me race.”

“Jess! Don’t do this!” Poe cried out. His captor pulled sharply on his hair and pressed the blaster harder against his skull.

“Keep him quiet,” Gloarten snapped at Poe’s guard. He turned to Jess with assessing eyes. “You’ll do whatever I say? Whatever I want? Whenever I want? Any races, any methods?”

Jess shivered. “Yes.”

Gloarten smiled smugly. “Deal. Now give me the blaster.” 

Jess spun the blaster in her hand so she was holding the muzzle. She raised her hands over her head and waited for one of Gloarten’s men to put her in binders. The Weequay grabbed the blaster from her and cuffed her hands behind her back, this time making sure they were powered on.

“Jess!” Poe shouted as he was dragged to his feet. The Klatooinian guard dragged him away from Jess and towards an ancient-looking A-Wing. 

“It’s ok, Poe,” Jess said, her voice breaking. “This is how it has to be. It’ll be ok.”

“Jess!” Poe shouted again as he was shoved into the cockpit of the A-Wing. He tried to fight back but was punched in the face for his efforts, disorienting him. He struggled to catch up as the Klatooinian finished typing something into the Nav Computer, fastened the crash webbing around him, and closed the canopy.

Poe helplessly looked out of the transparisteel window as the ship took off on Auto-Pilot, miserably unable to do anything as the ship took him away and left Jess behind.

* * *

Jess chewed her lip, watching as the A-Wing rose into the sky. Poe would be furious with her for what she did, but it was the right decision and she knew it. He would be safe.

“Take that ship down,” Gloarten ordered.

“What?” Jess looked at him in dismay. “No!” she tried to pull away, but the Weequay’s grip on the binders was too hard to break. “You said you’d let him go.”

“I said I would let him leave safely. He’s not here anymore, is he?” Gloarten laughed. He turned Jess around to watch as a ground missile was fired at the A-Wing.

“Sixty seconds to impact,” the Klatooinian said.

Jess watched in horror as the missile streaked across the sky and, one minute later, hit the A-Wing. The ship exploded in a brilliant flash. She closed her eyes and looked away. No one could have survived that.

Jess felt as though her soul was being ripped from her body as she watched the fiery wreckage fall back to the planet. She squeezed her eyes closed and shut down every part of herself that could feel. The walls she kept around herself were reinforced and every crack was sealed. Gloarten didn’t get to see what was behind that wall. He didn’t get to kill the person she had become—who _Poe_ had helped her become. Her heart ached at the memory of her friend, but she pushed it away. She couldn’t mourn him now. Jessika Pava: NRDF Cadet could no longer exist. She carefully locked that part of herself away—the part that knew friendship and freedom and joy—and left only a hollow shell of herself. Every feeling was pushed away and buried.

The numbness from years ago—the numbness that she had fought so hard to _bury_ rushed forward to fill in the gaping wounds left behind in her mind and body. It covered every nerve, every memory, every feeling in cool detachment. She let indifference and apathy take control. She kept her anger, her sarcasm, her resentment, and her venom, but let the rest fade away. She had no use for it here. None of it mattered anymore.

“Now, where were we?” Gloarten asked, turning back to Jess.

“Deal’s off,” Jess said flatly, her eyes still on the falling debris. “I’ll never race for you now.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

Jess laughed darkly and looked the Devaronian in the eye. “When Dameron was still alive…you had a hope that I’d keep racing for you. Because I wanted him alive more than you wanted me dead. I was willing to do whatever I needed to keep him safe. And even though I told him not to, there was a chance he’d come after me—come looking for me and get me away from you. But with him dead…” she scoffed. “With him dead, I don’t have a plan, backup, or any kind of weapon. But you know what I do have?”

“What?”

“Nothing to lose.” Jess grinned. She could feel the madness written on her face. _Good,_ she thought, _let him see what he’s made me._

“What about your life?” Gloarten asked. “You still have that to lose.”

Jess scoffed. “Being your slave isn’t much of a life. What’s gonna stop me from running your racer into a canyon wall? Go out in a blaze of glory?” She paused and grinned again. “Let me give you a hint: nothing.”

Rage again contorted Gloarten’s face and he backhanded Jess, sending her crashing to the ground. Without her hands to catch her, Jess landed hard on her side, sharp pain radiating from her knee.

Jess gave a cynical laugh as she pushed herself up onto her knees. She spat onto the ground. “Still can’t control that temper, can you?” she said thickly. She could taste the blood in her mouth and could feel it running down her face from her nose and split lip.

Gloarten growled and hit her across the face again, knocking her unconscious, her body collapsing unceremoniously to the ground.

“Take her to the brig,” he ordered Horam. “Make sure she can’t escape.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the first one I wrote for this story. I've been dying to get here! 
> 
> Comments, kudos, and feedback are all so appreciated.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

As soon as Jess agreed to Gloarten’s terms, Poe knew he was in trouble. There was no way that he was just going to be allowed to fly away, deal or no.

The Klatooinian guard grabbed him and dragged him to an old A-Wing that Poe didn’t believe was actually space-worthy. The thug easily lifted Poe into the cockpit and fastened him into the crash webbing. When Poe tried to struggle, the Klatooinian punched him with enough force for Poe to see stars. He input a trajectory into the Auto Navigation system and closed the canopy, leaving Poe bound in the pilot’s seat.

As soon as the hatch sealed, Poe’s hands flew to the comm unit. It had been disabled, but Shara Bey had flown an A-Wing and Poe had grown up working on her ship. He knew every system bypass taught by the Rebellion as well as a few he was pretty sure that he’d invented himself. Even bound, he made short work of reconnecting the comm system. While he waited for it to reboot, the Auto-Nav system lifted the shuddering ship off the ground and started its pre-programmed trajectory.

Poe knew his time was running out.

The comm system beeped to life. It was damaged beyond any repair Poe could manage in the time he had, which meant he couldn’t send any audio or video, only text. And he’d only have one chance to do it. He typed in a quick message and then sent it to three of the commlinks he knew by heart.

_P-DAM-132099: EMERGENCY SOS—Ibanjji—N4, 293.474, 582.581—28.538N, -81.379W—2 Pilots/2 Ships: Pava, Dameron—Bring Aid_

The ship was rising quickly as Poe hit send. He hoped it would go through.

His next task was to get the binders off of his wrists. He reached in his pocket for his multitool, but it wasn’t there. Poe furrowed his brow and dug deeper, but the pocket was empty. He quickly checked his other pockets, hoping that he had simply misplaced the tool, but his search was in vain. All of his other supplies were accounted for, but the multitool was nowhere to be found.

The memory of something falling out of his pocket when he was pulled out of the L.O.C. Box at Gloarten’s camp came to his mind. “Kriff,” he hissed, realizing that the lost item had been his multitool. “This just got a whole lot harder,” he muttered to himself. Now, he would have to do everything with his hands bound.

He sighed. Nothing could be done about it now.

Next on his agenda would be surviving whatever that Devaronian was planning to do next. He released the crash webbing and checked the system analysis. The screen showed bad news: the eject function had been disabled. Which meant Poe would have to eject manually—and with his hands still bound. He sighed and pulled up a map of the Ibanjji terrain, which indicated that his course would bring him directly over a small lake. Ejecting there would be his best chance of survival—assuming he got that far.

He checked his scanners for the missile he knew would be coming. Living through this would come down to perfect timing, excellent reflexes, and a whole lot of luck. Poe looked around for any kind of emergency equipment or a way to remove the binders, but the ship had been stripped.

Poe took a deep breath. He thought of his mother and her love of flying and the certainty and faith she’d shown in his abilities, even as a child. He thought of his father and his commitment to doing things the right way, all the way, and how he had instilled those same values in his son. He thought of his squadron—of Arana and Kun and Muran—and their willingness to follow his lead and the trust they showed him. And he thought of Jess and the fact that she was ready to give her life to save his. He thought about the faith she had in him that he’d do good for the galaxy and that she thought he was worth her sacrifice. He thought of them all and took courage from them. _I can do this,_ he told himself.

And then he waited.

He didn’t have to wait long.

A flare on his screen indicated that the missile had been launched and would be making impact in less than 60 seconds.

“Kriff,” Poe hissed. He looked at the screen, showing the flight angle of the missile and the flight plan for the A-Wing. He mentally ran the numbers in his head to figure out where he would have to eject. When he got his answer, his jaw dropped.

“Am I that lucky?” Poe whispered. A pulse of relief threatened to overwhelm him.

According to his math and the projected course of both the A-Wing and the missile on the map, the impact would happen just above the lake. Poe grinned: it seemed that the Universe was looking on this admittedly insanely risky stunt with humor. It was like the Universe thought that if he could pull this off, he deserved to survive. Poe approved the canopy override on the flight screen and reached for the latch when he realized he had another problem to worry about: the time he’d have between engaging the computer override and manually opening the canopy would be about two and a half seconds. The only way he would do it would be if he could have his hands on the latch to open the canopy while kicking the release override approval screen with the toe of his boot. Theoretically, it was possible, though he hadn’t ever tried it before, and he didn’t know anyone else who had—especially not without a helmet or any kind of ejection gear.

He let out a sharp breath—the whole thing was a bad idea.

_‘Bad ideas are the only kind we have right now.’_ Jess’s voice said in his head.

The computer beeped a warning. The missile was 45 seconds from impact.

Poe ran the math again in his head. He wished Jess was there to check his calculations. His math was good, but hers was impeccable. He shook his head to push the thought away and refocus on the task at hand—he had to escape this if he was going to get Jess back.

He figured that if he ejected at 6 seconds before impact, he should have fallen far enough to be clear of the explosion while still managing to be over the lake. Which meant he’d survive—he hoped. He didn’t know the exact gravity of this planet, but it felt a lot like Hosnian Prime, which was what he was basing his math calculations off of. _Maybe 9 seconds?_ He thought. He ran through the math again. _Yeah, definitely 9 seconds_.

30 seconds to impact.

Poe shifted into position. _This is a stupid idea,_ his brain screamed at him. And it wasn’t wrong: he was standing on one foot on the Pilot’s seat, one foot cautiously touching the edge of the screen for balance, his shoulders against the canopy, and his back contorted so that his hands were on the latch. If anything went wrong, he knew he was a goner—the force of the ejection could make his head impact the canopy and break his neck, killing him. Or his back could be broken from any number of impact points, twisted as it was. Or he could— _No,_ he told himself firmly, cutting off that line of thinking. He would survive because he had to get back to Jess. There was no alternative. Death wasn’t an option—he couldn’t fail her.

20 seconds to impact.

A realization struck Poe. He reached in his pocket and pulled out the A99 breather and put it in his mouth. He didn’t know if it was still functional or not, but luck had been on his side so far and this seemed like a small miracle he could hope for. With the breather in place, he got back in position: standing on one foot on the pilot seat, hunched over with hands bound on the latch, shoulders against the canopy, and the other foot balanced precariously near the override screen. 

15 seconds.

Poe took another deep breath and watched the countdown.

15…14…13…12…11…10…

9 seconds to impact.

Three things happened in quick succession: First, Poe hit the release override with his boot and twisted the manual release hard enough to break the atmospheric seal lock on the cockpit. Then, the canopy released, breaking free from the ship. The sudden change of air pressure yanked Poe out of the cockpit, sending him hurtling through the sky, the wind whistling in his ears. And last, the missile made contact with the ship and the A-Wing blew up in a fiery explosion. Poe felt the heat of the flames singe the tips of his hair.

Poe oriented himself just in time to remember to take a deep breath as he plunged into the lake, just in case the breather didn’t work. It didn’t matter: the water was so cold if forced the air out of his lungs as soon as he hit it. He exhaled sharply through the breather. The device gave a slight vibration as it turned on. He almost grinned: the breather still worked! He dove lower in the cold water and awkwardly swam away from the fiery rain of shrapnel and debris from the A-Wing.

Once Poe thought he’d cleared the debris field from the explosion, he surfaced and looked around. Pieces of the A-Wing were still burning on the surface of the lake before slowly sinking into the dark and cold water. He took in the sparse trees and sandy beaches surrounding the lake. It all felt vaguely familiar to him.

The pull of a current started to drag against his legs, moving him towards a loud rushing sound. He looked to his left for the source of the sound and saw where the lake spilled over the edge of a cliff into a waterfall. This wasn’t just any waterfall, though: he _knew_ this waterfall.

“No way,” Poe breathed. He couldn’t believe it: he’d crashed into the same lake that he and Jess had left that morning. _Kriff, was that just this morning?_ This was the waterfall they’d climbed up the day before. This time he did grin as he swam to shore. He tried to remember what Jess had said about her brief scouting expedition around the lake.

_‘There’s a few caves farther north,’_ she’d said.

Caves were not at the top of Poe’s list of favorite things. A childhood incident had left him wary of them, but given his current circumstances, the caves seemed like his best option. With his hands still bound and no weapons, he had no way to defend himself and without a tent or emergency blanket, he needed shelter.

Poe walked along the edge of the lake until he reached the mouths of the caves. He listened closely for any signs of wildlife before pulling out his flashlight and stepping into the first cave. It was shallow and had no dry ground. It would work if necessary, but it would leave him more exposed than he liked and he would be sleeping on the wet stone. He moved on to the next cave with plans to return if none of the others were better options. The second cave he checked had the remnants of an animal’s nest in it. Poe remembered Yashi’s warning about the varn and decided not to risk if this was one of their dens. The next two caves had evidence of rockslides and unstable walls. Poe frowned, wondering if his luck had finally run out. The last cave opening was the biggest, but there was no way to walk into it. Though the stone entrance arched high, the only way to enter the cave was to swim through the deep water.

Poe considered his options and sighed: he was still soaking wet, and he didn’t think that getting back into the water would make much of a difference now. He put his flashlight between his teeth and slipped back into the cold water. He swam deeper into the cave until it opened up into a grotto with a ledge large enough for Poe to comfortably sit or sleep on. He pulled himself up onto the ledge and looked around. There was no evidence of any animals in the grotto and the ledge was dry and stable. The rocky ceiling was higher than he’d expected it to be, and the inlet of water lapped peacefully at the stone walls. It would be a good place to stay the night and wait for Muran and the rest of his squad to arrive.

Poe didn’t want to think about why he was so sure that Muran would be the first to respond. He wasn’t sure if it was because he truly believed the man would be the first to come or if Poe just hoped it would be him.

_Maybe it’s a little of both,_ Poe admitted to himself.

He pulled his meager supplies out of his pockets and left them to dry before he slipped back into the water. He couldn’t take off his flight suit due to the binders and knew that if he didn’t warm up soon, hypothermia could be a concern, which made building a fire his first priority. He swam out of the cave and back to the shoreline to gather as much wood as he could find to bring back to his cave for the night. 

As he worked, the clouds grew darker and more threatening. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the winds began to pick up. The severity of Lompiach’s warning about the storm from two nights ago became obvious when a particularly large streak of lightning raced across the sky.

It was time for Poe to get back to his shelter.

He removed his flight harness and cinched it around his collection of wood and shoved it into the water. He looped the excess strap around his hand and swam back into the cave, pulling his collection of wood behind him. The harness would probably be a lost cause after this kind of treatment, but it was an easy sacrifice to make. Hell, he’d pay for it himself if he had to.

The sun was hidden behind the thick storm clouds, but Poe knew the second it was down: the darkness became more complete, the temperature dropped, and the storm moved in quickly. He’d made it into the cave just in time.

He swam to the widest part of the ledge and hauled himself onto the dry stone, bringing the wood up after him. Outside the cave, the wind howled and flashes of lightning could be seen through the cave mouth, but inside, the water was barely affected. The air was still and almost warm. Poe shivered anyway. Without being able to remove the flight suit, all of his base layers were still soaking wet. With any luck, though, the fire would be hot enough to dry all of his clothes.

He was immensely grateful that he’d grabbed the firestarter from the E-Bag. The small carton could start any wood on fire, wet or dry, with a single snap of the packet. Poe piled his collection of wood along the wall of the grotto before starting to build his fire. He stacked the wood how his father had shown him years before— _’The Pathfinder Way’_ his father had called it—and snapped the firestarter in half. He tossed it onto the wood pyre and it instantly caught fire. The flames warmed him immediately and lit the whole grotto with warm light.

With the fire started, Poe let his body relax minutely. He sat as close as he could to the fire to dry out and keep warm while he ate one of the processed ration bars. Jess had told him to take all of the rations, but now he wished that he had insisted that Jess took some of them as well. _There had been no way to know that we’d be separated,_ he thought. But they had been, and now Jess was again the captive of her former slave master. And after seeing how scared of him she’d been and how he’d treated her, Poe knew there was no way that the Devaronian was going to feed Jess.

_Jess._

She hadn’t left his mind all day, but now that he didn’t have ‘SURVIVE’ at the forefront of his mind, she occupied all of it. He didn’t want to try and imagine what she was going through right now, because he knew that if he’d pictured it, those images would never leave his head. Looking back, he realized that from the moment they’d been captured, she’d known she wasn’t going to get away and had focused all of her energy on getting him out.

What kind of response was he supposed to have to her decision to sacrifice herself for him? What had he ever done to inspire that kind of loyalty? What had she been thinking? And when—not if, he refused to believe he’d fail— _when_ he got Jess back, what would he say? What could he do?

Poe chewed his lip. When he was a child, his mother had always acknowledged his emotions and had taught him that they all had a purpose. His job, she said, was to recognize them, accept them, and use them rather than internalize them. She had told him that if he was going to be the best pilot in the galaxy, he needed to know how to identify and control his emotions, not the other way around: pilots couldn’t let their emotions take over in the cockpit. That meant that as a child, he’d not only openly expressed his feelings, but had also learned how to know his reactions to those feelings and how to respond to them. As an adult, it meant that after the initial expression and recognition of his emotions, he was skilled at sorting out his thoughts quickly and efficiently. Muran frequently teased Poe that he wore his emotions on his sleeve: he burned hot and fast before returning to his emotional baseline. And though he was still prone to the occasional impulsive decision, Poe’s ability to control his emotions made him steady, confident, and reliable—especially in a cockpit, which made him a well-respected starfighter commander.

Now, though, steady, confident, and reliable were the last things he felt that he was. His emotions were swirling inside his mind. The expression and recognition part was easy enough to do, but he couldn’t figure out how to sort them like he normally did. Every time he tried to sort them out, something else pulled him back into the thick of his emotions. He felt guilt at leaving Jess behind—even if he knew it wasn’t his fault—and feared what could happen to her before he got back to her. He worried about what Jess would do, thinking he was dead. Anger that she had deceived him and lied to him about her plans was tempered by the loyalty and affection he felt to someone who he realized was quickly becoming one of his best friends.

Light from the fire danced on the walls as Poe sorted through his troubled mind. He followed the string of each emotion, looking for its purpose. In the end, he found that all of his emotions fed into one thing: determination. And _that_ was something he could use. He focused his mind on that emotion—now intentionally channeling every other feeling into that determination. He remained firm in his conviction: he would get Jess out of Gloarten’s grasp and he would bring her home. Now he just had to figure out how.

With his mind more ordered, exhaustion hit Poe hard. It had been a long and difficult day. Physically, he was spent. His muscles ached from swimming with his hands bound and the adrenaline had long ago worn off. Mentally and emotionally, he was wrung out. The last three days had been overwhelming: the damaged ship, the pirates, Jess’s fear and insistence that they run, her confession, watching Jess surrender herself, surviving the crash, and sorting through his own mind—it was all too much. It made him feel like he had nothing left to go on.

But there was still work to do.

He added a few more logs to the fire and tried to find a comfortable position to get something resembling rest or sleep. He knew it was in vain: he wouldn’t be getting any kind of quality sleep, not while he was worried about Jess. His logical mind told him that he couldn’t do anything to help her until Rapier Squadron arrived, though, and when they did arrive, he’d be no use to anyone if he was too tired to move. He needed to sleep.

“Hold on, Jess,” Poe whispered to himself. “I’m coming.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, I can't actually kill off Poe. We all know he survives this. And the man has more luck than anyone else in the galaxy. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna make it easy on him.
> 
> This and the next chapter are both a little on the shorter side, mainly because I like to write dialogue and right now, they're both on their own. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments, feedback, and kudos are adored!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: This is my first time adding this because I try to tag my stories in a way that is self-explanatory and that you know what you're getting into. But this chapter has a lot more physical abuse than I typically write (I tend to be a 'leave it to your imagination' style writer when it comes to the infliction of injuries), including physical abuse to a child. It's not particularly graphic, but I wanted to give everyone a fair warning. If you think there needs to be an additional tag, please let me know.
> 
> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

Jess woke slowly. She was on a hard cot or a bed…but not one she recognized. Keeping her eyes closed, Jess tried to feel out the room. It was silent, cold, and still. She was alone, wherever she was. She tried to focus on how she’d gotten here. For a moment, everything was fuzzy and unclear, but then reality hit. Ibanjji. Yashi. The lake. Captured. Gloarten. An explosion. Poe. _POE!_

Jess’s eyes flew open. Panic flared in her mind—she knew exactly where she was. The gray durasteel walls were terrifyingly familiar to her: she was back on the _Schrei,_ in one of the cells on the lower level. Her hands were cuffed in front of her and she’d been left on a cot, still dressed in her orange flight suit and boots.

 _This can’t be real,_ she thought. This was a nightmare, she’d had ones like it before. She was still in her E-Tent, by the lake with Poe. They’d be heading back to their ships to make repairs and head home. She just had to wake up.

She looked around, looking for any variation that would help her escape her dream and wake up. There always was something. The cell itself was void of any identifiable marks and the lock keypad wasn’t accessible from the inside of the cell. Her uniform was right and there was no sound or smells to help her convince her mind to wake up. She had never had a nightmare be this persistent before. By now, she could usually find her way out. But a sinking feeling that this wasn’t a nightmare was growing in her mind. It was all too realistic—the bed was sturdy, the binders were tight and her fingernails…her fingernails still had chipped metallic pink polish on them. Dread settled into her stomach.

This wasn’t a nightmare, it was real—all of it. She had been captured and Poe had been…she couldn’t think about that. It hurt too much. She gritted her teeth and pushed all things _‘Poe Dameron’_ out of her mind. _He shouldn’t be in a place like this,_ she thought, _even if he is just in my memory_.

She remembered the moments after Poe…and felt the numbness again take over, pushing everything else aside. She didn’t fight it. Everything that mattered was locked away where no one could touch it. Maybe not even this version of herself would be able to find what she’d hidden.

The scuff of something being pushed across the floor pulled Jess out of her downward spiral. She looked outside the cell door and saw the slave boy from before. He was scrubbing the floor on his hands and knees with a bucket of soapy water that was almost as big as he was. Jess frowned.

Jess pushed herself up so she was sitting on the edge of the cot, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. Her whole body ached. “Don’t—” she coughed, her voice raspy from disuse. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Don’t droids usually do that?” 

The boy jumped, his frightened eyes turning to look at Jess. She was startled by the biggest green eyes she had ever seen.

“It’s ok,” Jess said quietly and held up her hands placatingly. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to know what you’re doing.”

The boy considered her for a moment before turning back to his task. “This is my punishment,” he replied quietly, his sandy-colored hair falling in his face.

“For what?”

“I did not get the engine of Master’s racer fixed in time. It was burnt out and had to be rebuilt. He told me he wanted it fixed by the morning, but then he changed his mind and wanted it done before third meal. I tried but…I did not have enough time to finish my task,” he said. “I failed. And so he ordered me to scrub the floors of the ship by hand.”

Jess knew that mind game—Gloarten would give his slaves an impossible task and then punish them for failing to complete it. Knowing the Devaronian, he would intentionally walk across any cleaned floor with muddy boots just to make his slave’s task harder.

“What’s your name?” Jess asked.

“Mattis,” the boy answered.

“Mattis,” Jess repeated. “Where you from, Mattis?”

“I do not know,” he replied quietly. “I have belonged to Master for as long as I can remember.”

Jess’s stomach clenched. She thought she’d ruined Gloarten, but he’d just started over.

“How old are you?”

“Twelve,” Mattis said, his voice shaking.

“Don’t lie to me, kid,” Jess sighed.

“Nine.”

“There we go.” Jess gave what she hoped was a friendly smile. Her jaw still ached from Gloarten’s backhand and she could feel the bruise forming below the skin. “I’m Jess,” she said quietly.

“I know who you are.” Mattis’s lips quirked into a brief smile. “Master hates you.”

“I’m sure he does,” Jess tried to laugh, but her ribs ached and she gasped in pain. “How long was I out?”

“You were asleep when they brought you into the cell. Third meal was an hour ago and the sun will set in an hour.”

“That’s probably like, what, four hours?” Jess asked.

“I think?” Mattis sounded unsure.

“So are we still on Ibanjji?”

“I do not know what planet we are on, but we have not left wherever we are,” the boy said. “Our ship was damaged and we had to land for repairs. Master is repairing it now, but it does not seem that we will leave before tomorrow. Maybe later than that.”

“Hmm,” Jess said noncommittally. 

“The other slaves…they tell stories about you.”

“Do they? What do they say?”

“They say you got out.”

Jess gave a weak smile. “I did.”

“But then why are you back?”

“That’s a good question,” Jess said tiredly. “I guess because sometimes the Universe doesn’t work how you think it should.”

“Will you get away again?” the boy asked.

“I don’t know,” Jess said. She doubted it, but that kind of honesty wasn’t meant for children. “Why are you asking?”

Mattis looked down, his brow furrowed in concentration before he looked up again. “I wanted to ask that if you do get away again, please…take me with you.”

Jess’s breath caught in her throat. A sliver of the person she’d locked away bled through the cold numbness of her heart. “Yes,” she said without thinking. “Of course.”

“Really?”

“Buddy, if I can get out of here, you’re coming with me,” Jess promised.

 _Nice going, Jess, making a promise you can’t possibly keep,_ the cynical part of her mind berated her. She had no idea what she’d been saying or doing—making a promise like that. NRDF Jessika might make that promise, but Slave Jessika wouldn’t.

“Thank you,” the boy said with a smile.

Jess nodded stiffly. “How many slaves remember me?”

“Three.”

 _That was three more than I’d hoped_ , Jess thought with a grimace. “How many more slaves does he have?”

“Master owns eleven slaves, including myself.”

That was less than half of the number that Gloarten had owned when Jess had gotten out. That slightly improved her mood: he wasn’t back to his previous level of wealth. Maybe she could ruin him again. “Are any of the other slaves on the ship?” she asked.

“No,” Mattis shook his head. “The others are back at the compound. Only I was brought on this trip.” 

“Ok,” Jess nodded, “ok, that’s good.”

Something shifted against her chest as she leaned back against the wall. Jess frowned and reached up to her neck. Stiff fingers wrapped around the thin chain holding her NRDF ID Tags. She almost sobbed—she thought they would have been taken from her by now. With Poe…gone, she knew that once the standard Seven-Day Search was complete, no one in particular would be looking for her. Maybe Niv, but she didn’t know for sure.

What she did know was what would happen next. Namely, that her ID Tag’s RFID chip would be added to a list of Missing Pilots. Scouting droids patrolled the galaxy, looking for RFID signatures that were associated with the missing chips in the hopes of finding a missing pilot alive. If found, the droid would report back to the NRDF and a search and rescue team would be dispatched. But the range on the scouting droids was limited and the galaxy was big. The chances of being found that way were slim. But there was a chance. 

There was a chance as long as Gloarten didn’t find the ID Tags. A desperate plan hinging on wild hope formed in her mind.

Jess got up and moved closer to the cell door. “Mattis,” Jess whispered. “Will you do something for me?”

“What do you want me to do?” the boy asked nervously.

Jess held out the ID Tags through the bars. “These are from the NRDF. I…I can’t promise that someone is gonna come looking for me, but if they do, they’ll be tracking these. Gloarten can’t know I have them. Will you hold them for me? That way, even if I can’t escape, if someone comes…they’ll find you and they can take you home.”

The boy looked down apprehensively at the transparisteel tags in Jess’s hand before he tentatively took them and turned them over in his hands.

“Thank you,” Jess breathed. “Keep them safe.”

The sound of heavy boots echoed down the hall, drawing their attention.

Mattis shoved the ID Tags into his pocket and dropped back to his knees to scrub the floor. Jess went back to the cot and laid down. She wished she could show more defiance, but she knew that apathy and indifference would piss Gloarten off far more than any defiance she could muster.

“Finally, you’re awake,” Gloarten said, glaring at her through the bars.

“Unfortunately,” Jess said, staring at the ceiling.

“Look at me, slave.”

Jess raised her eyebrows but didn’t look at him.

“Are you deaf or stupid? Look at me!”

“Not deaf. Not stupid. Just not interested in what you have to say.”

Gloarten growled and slammed his hand against the bars of the cell. “Your disobedience is only making things harder on yourself, girl.”

“You’re the one who’s making the calls, Gloarten. I’m not the slave owner here,” Jess replied. “I’m not making things hard for anyone. You’re doing that all on your own for all of us.”

“You will address me as Master or Sir. Surely you haven’t forgotten that.”

“Oh, I remember that expectation. I just don’t feel like meeting it. Hope that’s alright,” Jess said.

 _Shut. Up. Jess._ Poe’s voice said in Jess’s head. She ignored it. It wasn’t like she really had any hope of surviving this situation, so shutting up didn’t serve a purpose. And her plan hadn’t really developed beyond ‘Get Under Gloarten’s Skin’, which was in progress. She’d figure out what came next when it happened.

Gloarten chuckled. He leaned against the wall across from Jess’s cell, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re in no position to bargain, _girl._ I don’t care what you _want_ or _feel._ ”

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that: what kind of position am I in, exactly?” Jess asked, still not looking at the Devaronian. “Cause I’m still trying to work that out myself.”

Gloarten gave no response.

 _That’s ok,_ Jess thought, _I have plenty of sore subjects to pick from._ “I’m impressed you managed to keep a hold of this ship with all your legal fees,” she said. “I mean…the New Republic doesn’t take too kindly to slavers, or so I’m told. And you had _so many_ charges against you.”

“Politicians are politicians. Imperial or New Republican, senators are senators. Makes no difference to me. A bribe here or a favor there can make anything disappear.” Gloarten sneered at her. “Even an NRDF pilot could mysteriously disappear from the records…for enough credits, that is.”

“I’m sure you could make it happen. Especially a cadet like me,” Jess said to the ceiling. “I’m not exactly one of Command’s favorites. Too mouthy or disrespectful or something like that. Wouldn’t even be worth your credits. Half of them would just be happy for me to disappear.”

“Imagine that,” Gloartan mocked.

“You’ve always liked our barbed exchanges, admit it,” Jess said.

“Never.”

“And yet you’re here…standing outside my cell…talking to me. I think you missed it.”

Gloarten snarled. “You always had a smart mouth. Too smart for your own good.”

She shrugged—he wasn’t wrong. “Speaking of disappearing, I had such hope that you’d just _disappear_ after I turned you in,” Jess said sardonically. “Guess that just shows the failings of the New Republic’s system. Too bad. Well, nothing can be perfect, especially not government.”

“And yet you serve them.”

“I _work_ for them,” Jess corrected. “Big difference.”

“Were you surprised to see me?” Gloarten asked. “After you ran off to create your pathetic little life…I bet you never thought you’d see me again.” 

“I _hoped_ I’d never see you again. And I wish I could say I was surprised you managed to avoid prison, but I’m not,” Jess said with a shrug. “Were you surprised, though, when you returned to your compound and found nothing left? No palace, no ships, no slaves. Just rubble. Thought it was a fitting parting gift from me, don’t you? But I have been dying to know: is that when your wives left you? Or did they leave before? And your husband, too, right? Haven’t seen any of them around the ship and rumors on the Rim, well…you know how they spread.”

Jess knew she was provoking him—twisting the proverbial knife, but she didn’t care. If she wasn’t going to be able to escape, she would make Gloarten’s life as miserable as possible until he killed her or she crashed a racer and killed herself.

Gloarten’s face contorted in rage as he charged the bars, nearly stepping on Mattis in his haste. The boy yelped and rolled out of the way. He jumped to his feet and flattened himself against the wall, desperate to be as out of the way and invisible as possible.

“Out of my way, boy!” Gloarten shouted and kicked over the bucket of water.

“Again with the temper. Gloarten, I expected better from you,” Jess taunted.

The Devaronian slowed his breathing to control his rage.

“Would you look at that: you’re using some calming techniques. Who would have guessed? I’m sure everyone is so proud of you,” Jess continued her taunts.

Gloarten glared at her before he looked down at the spilled water and then up at the frightened boy with a cruel grin. “Look at the mess you’ve made, you stupid useless womp rat! Clean it up,” he ordered. “I want all of the water back in the bucket.”

Jess sat up on her elbows and looked over at Gloarten for the first time. That was not what she had expected to happen. It certainly was not how she’d anticipated the Devaronian to respond. 

“How can I do that, sir?” Mattis asked softly.

“Use your imagination,” Gloarten said.

Mattis bit his lip and looked down at the spilled water. There was no way for him to do what was being demanded of him. The defeat in his eyes was visible from across the room and Jess knew from experience that if he hadn’t taught himself to hold back tears, they would be falling down his cheeks now. Tears served no purpose, though—it was a lesson every child slave learned at too young of an age. Jess knew how this would go—that Gloarten would humiliate the boy and then punish him for failing at his task.

 _He’s not your problem,_ the numb part of her brain told her. _Leave it alone. He’s survived this long without you, he doesn’t need you to help._

Mattis stepped forward from the wall, uncertainty still on his face. Jess watched as Gloarten grab Mattis by the shoulder and roughly threw the terrified boy onto the floor.

“I said…clean it up,” Gloarten said, putting his heavy boot on the boy’s neck, pinning him down in the spilled water. It was too much weight for the small boy: he was struggling to breathe from the pressure. Mattis clawed at the ground, frantic to get away.

“Sir, please!” he begged, gasping for breath. “Let me go!”

 _Yeah, fuck that,_ another (bigger) part of Jess’s brain said. _He’s a kid and Gloarten’s rage is your fault. Do something about it._

Before she could reconsider what she was about to do, Jess opened her mouth. “I see you’re still picking on children. Once a bully, always a bully, am I right? What—can’t find someone your own size to abuse?” she said, drawing attention away from the boy and to herself.

A look of shock crossed over the boy’s face.

“What was that?” Gloarten turned and stepped closer to the cell bars, releasing Mattis from the ground. The boy took a deep breath and scurried to the far wall. He tucked his head and wrapped his arms protectively around his stomach, curling into a ball to make himself the smallest target possible.

When Jess saw the boy’s look of simultaneous terror and relief, she clenched her jaw. Whatever happened to her, she knew that she’d made the right call. She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the cot and glared at the slaver. “I told you to leave him alone,” she said.

A growl rumbled from deep in Gloarten’s throat. “What did you say to me?”

“You heard me,” Jess said, staring the Devaronian in the eye. “I’ve said it twice now.” 

“You dare speak to me like that?” he spat.

“Apparently I do. What are you going to do about it? Kill me?” Jess said levelly.

Gloarten glared back at Jess before he looked back down at the boy. “Get out of here,” he growled.

Mattis grabbed the empty bucket and brush and ran away as fast as he could.

“If you have so much to say, _girl_ , say it,” Gloarten said, his voice low.

“You don’t want to know what I think of you.”

“Say. It.” Gloarten repeated.

 _You asked for it,_ Jess thought. She knew this could be the last thing she ever said and she wanted to make it count. “You’re cruel, vulgar, selfish, stupid, intellectually lacking, and fall short of every expectation that the Devaronian people hold for themselves. You are a weak leader, completely lack creativity as a racer, and always seem to be compensating for something.”

“That’s what you think of me?” Gloarten demanded.

“Yes.”

Gloarten snarled and turned towards the doorway. “Horam! Tinaz! Get in here,” he barked. “Get her on her feet.”

The Weequay and the Klatooinian seemingly appeared from nowhere before they stepped into the cell and grabbed Jess’s arms, pulling her to her feet. A sharp jolt of pain radiated from her right knee, but Jess had long ago learned how to school her expression. She wouldn’t let Gloarten know anything. The two thugs stepped away, leaving Jess to face Gloarten alone.

The large Devaronian sneered down at Jess. “You actually thought you’d get away from me?”

“I did for a while,” Jess replied. “And it’s not like you found me by some great skill of yours. Just a shitty coincidence. So much like most of your life.”

She was ready for the backhand, but that didn’t change the fact that it hurt.

“You’ve gotten mouthy,” Gloarten said, grabbing her chin.

“Always have been.”

“Perhaps I should do something about that,” dragging his claw-like nails down her cheek. “Cut out your tongue, perhaps.”

“You won’t,” Jess smirked. “Like I said, Gloarten…I think you like it. Missed it, even.”

“I believe you know that you should call me Master.”

Jess scoffed. “We just had this conversation. That’s not gonna happen.”

Gloarten narrowed his eyes at Jess and punched her in the stomach. The blow knocked the air out of her lungs and she crumpled to the ground. She coughed, trying to get her lungs to cooperate again.

“You will learn your place again, _Slave,”_ Gloarten hissed and kicked her, again knocking the air out of her. Jess twisted herself into a ball, trying to protect herself as much as she could as Gloarten unleashed his rage on her, raining down kicks and punches all over her body.

Jess squeezed her eyes closed. A part of her wanted Gloarten to take it too far and just kill her, but another part, a part that sounded suspiciously like Poe, wanted to cling to life desperately.

 _Kriffing figures my survival instinct sounds like Dameron,_ Jess thought.

She gritted her teeth and didn’t make a sound throughout the beating; not until Gloarten stomped on her already injured knee. Agony exploded in her knee and Jess couldn’t help the cry of pain she let out.

That was apparently what Gloarten had been waiting for. He stopped his attack on her and stepped back, breathing heavily.

“Feel better?” Jess muttered. She ignored the pain and defiantly pushed herself back up. Her insolence did nothing more than earn her another punch to the face. She crashed back to the ground, the black eye already starting to form. Once she was back on the ground, Gloarten kicked her again in the stomach. This time, Jess stayed down. Everything hurt as she desperately clung to consciousness.

“Take her flight suit and her boots,” Gloarten ordered the two guards. “Turn the environmental controls for this cell down to freezing and the lights up to maximum. And make sure she can’t escape.” He smirked down at Jess. “We want to keep our guest comfortable, don’t we?” he mocked.

“ _Go to hell,”_ is what Jess wanted to say, but she couldn’t get her mouth to work. Everything hurt. Rough hands grabbed her again by the shoulders and pulled her up. Her binders were removed as they unzipped her flight suit and pulled off her boots and socks, leaving her in just her compression leggings and gray undershirt.

“Sir,” a Sullustan Jess had never seen before approached Gloarten.

Gloarten turned angrily at the interruption. “What is it?”

Jess didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. The guards were still going about their orders concerning her and it took all of her willpower to focus on what they were doing to her. She knew she didn’t have the mental capacity to try and hear Gloarten’s conversation at the same time as monitoring the guards’ actions, and the guards were the more pressing matter in her opinion. Whatever it was, though, Gloarten was upset by it. She could see his frown from across the cell.

Jess gasped in pain as the guards dropped her onto the cot and re-cuffed her wrists in front of her. Just as they were about to shackle her ankle to the wall with a long chain, Gloarten stopped them.

“Wait…I have a better idea,” his frown turned into a wicked grin.

“What is it, Sir?” the Weequay, Horam, asked.

“Teren says there’s a storm coming in. We won’t be able to leave tonight,” Gloarten said.

“What’s that have to do with her?” Tinaz, the Klatooinian, asked with a nod at Jess.

“You’ll see,” he said to the guard.

Jess watched as Gloarten enter the cell and kneel next to the cot. She tried to glare at him, but she knew it was more of a wince.

“You think I’m cruel, girl?” Gloarten growled. “I can be so much worse.”

The Devaronian’s face swam in Jess’s vision.

“I bet,” she replied dryly. She regretted it instantly: talking made her nauseous.

“You think I lack creativity? Let me show you how creative I can be,” Gloarten grinned. “Bring her outside.” 

Jess tried to struggle but was too hurt to do anything effective. The two guards dragged her down the ramp and outside.

Jess looked at the dark clouds roiling overhead. Teren, the Sullustan Jess guessed, was right: a storm was coming in. And it was a big one.

“Tie her to the landing gear,” Gloarten said.

The two guards manhandled Jess back until she was sitting on the ground, her back against one of the landing struts. They uncuffed her hands long enough to feed the binders through a gap in the machinery and pull Jess’s wrists behind her back. They quickly snapped them closed, effectively tying her to the landing gear as ordered. Jess pulled at the binders, but they didn’t budge. She slumped back against the strut, ignoring the pressure on the bruises covering her body.

Once she was in place, Gloarten knelt down in front of her. “Did you know the storms on this planet are some of the most dangerous in the sector?” he asked conversationally.

“You don’t say?” Jess managed.

Gloarten grinned. “Oh yes. Ships can’t take off in them, it’s too dangerous. The locals call them Shrees due to the sound the wind makes. It’s strong enough to rip trees out by the roots. Do you know anything about these storms, _girl_?”

“Shockingly no. Why don’t you enlighten me.”

“When a Shree moves in, it’s fast and violent. The wind is the first thing to come, but then temperatures drop, icy rain falls, there’s lightning and thunder, and it becomes deadly.” He grabbed Jess’s chin, forcing her to look up at him. “Most data suggests that a human won’t last more than twenty minutes in the storm, though ten to fifteen minutes is typical. Let’s see how you do.” He released Jess’s chin and turned to walk back up the ramp, flanked by his two guards.

The ramp closed, leaving Jess alone.

Once Jess was certain Gloarten was gone, she renewed her struggle against the binders holding her in place, but it was no use: she wasn’t going anywhere.

Jess let out a defeated sigh. She leaned her head back against the landing gear and closed her eyes. This wasn’t how she’d ever thought she’d die.

It was out of character for Gloarten, too, she thought. He usually liked killing up close—whether it was a slave, an enemy, or some poor soul who picked a fight with him at a bar. That realization made Jess feel slightly more confident that it wasn’t actually Gloarten’s intention for her to die this way. It was a small comfort, though. She didn’t know how long she would be left out in the storm or how badly battered her body would be by the end of this particular punishment. And accidents did happen—Gloarten might misjudge how long she could survive and she might die anyway. 

She shivered—the temperature had dropped significantly in the short time she’d been outside, a sign that the storm would be hitting soon. The wind picked up, carrying with it bits of gravel and sand that stung as they were whipped against Jess’s skin. She brought her good knee up and hid her face against it, squeezing closed her eyes and mouth to keep the debris from causing permanent damage.

Flashes of lightning so bright that Jess could see them through her eyelids split the sky. The thunder reverberated through the ground, the ship, and the air.

The howling wind continued to batter her body with sand and debris, scratching her skin until it was so raw that it felt like it had been burnt.

Then the rain came. Hard, driving rain that soaked her in seconds. As soon as the first drops hit Jess’s skin, it felt as if she had been dropped into an ice bath. She gasped, but the breath seized in her chest. The icy rain did nothing to soothe her injuries. Instead, it brought her back to full consciousness and made her highly aware of every injury on her body.

Something hard hit her shin on her injured leg. Harder than anything else had been. It happened again. And again. Jess opened her eyes just enough to see what had hit her. Small balls of ice were falling. _Hail, of course,_ Jess thought darkly. She tried to draw her injured leg closer to her, but it hurt too much to move. Not that it mattered. The wind blew the hail under the ship, pelting her with the ice balls. Jess shivered again. It was so cold now that she could see her breath.

Jess squeezed her eyes closed again, but couldn’t stop tears from falling down her face. She had survived worse torture, she knew, but that wasn’t what caused her tears now. Every time she’d been hurt before, she’d been alone. But she’d never known the difference. Now, though, being subjected to Gloarten’s whims so soon after losing her closest friend…she had never felt so alone.

She leaned her head down and screamed. She screamed in a way she’d never screamed before. She let out her anger, her fury, her desperation. She screamed about the injustice of it all. She screamed her pain—the lingering pain from the beating, the current pain from the storm, and the emotional pain cutting through her heart, knowing that Poe was gone. She screamed for Poe and the unfairness of his death. She screamed for the person she had been—the NRDF Pilot, the friend, the free _person_ that she had been learning to love. She screamed that she was having to mourn and bury that person at the same time that she was trying to survive her worst nightmare. She screamed for the future she had finally let herself imagine was possible but would no longer have. She screamed until her screams became sobs and she felt hollow and completely wrung out. 

A cracking sound to her right pulled her from her mourning. She looked up to see a large branch hurdling towards her. She closed her eyes and braced for the impact.

The branch slammed into the side of Jess's head and she knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Jess isn't doing so great right now. 
> 
> She'll be ok. I promise. 
> 
> But it'll get worse before it gets better. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are the best.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

At some point during the night, the storm dissipated. Not that it mattered much to Poe. Between the raging winds outside and his own anxiety, sleep had not come easily. Once the distraction of the wind had faded, the little sleep he had managed to get had not been restful. His joints ached from lying on the stone ledge and his nerves were frayed. A knot had formed in his chest overnight—every time he had almost fallen asleep, his imagination would conjure nightmarish images of Jess being beaten, tortured, or killed and his mind would be fully alert again. As the night wore on, her face became distorted and unfamiliar, but the feeling of dread remained. Even now, with the sun up and the storm gone, he was on edge and off-balance.

Without a chrono, he had no idea how long he’d been in the cave. His stash of firewood was running low and he knew he couldn’t allow the fire to go out, not until help had come. But even knowing that, he still couldn’t bring himself to get in the water and go get more wood. His body ached and he was so tired. 

A chirp from inside his flight suit pulled Poe from his daze. He numbly reached under the orange fabric and pulled out his NRDF ID Tags. They were pulsing green and letting off a quiet chirp at regular intervals. The glow brought some balance back to Poe’s mind and he grinned—Rapier Squadron was here.

He gathered his remaining supplies and jumped into the water. The cold water shocked any remaining drowsiness out of him and replaced it with adrenaline as he swam. The storm had blown driftwood and some remaining debris from the A-Wing into the mouth of the cave, blocking Poe’s exit. He took a deep breath and dove deeper into the water to swim under the blockage. When he surfaced, he saw a New Republic Cruiser soar overhead, bank to the right, and land on the shore. Poe had always thought the NRDF Cruisers were the ugliest in the home fleet, but at this moment, he couldn’t think of a better sight.

Poe’s muscles protested as he swam to shore—his arms were stiff from being cuffed for so long and the rest of his body was sore and protesting from the crash the day before. Once his knees hit the sandy bank, he clumsily stood and stumbled towards the ship.

“Dameron!”

Poe looked up to see Muran racing down the ramp towards him.

“Muran,” Poe gasped, beyond grateful to see the other man. He stumbled and fell into the water, barely able to catch himself with his bound hands.

Muran raced into the water and wrapped an arm around Poe to help him to shore. “Easy there, Poe, I’ve got you,” he said.

“Thank you,” Poe managed. He wasn’t even sure what he was thanking him for—the list of things he wasn’t thanking him for seemed significantly shorter.

“I know you like getting picked up in dives, but this is a little much, even for you,” Muran said with a wink. 

Surprised by the comment, Poe let out a choked laugh at the joke. Muran grinned and helped Poe sit down on a rock and knelt down in front of him. A multitool appeared in his hand and he began to remove the binders. 

“How long have you had these on?” Muran asked as he worked.

“Long time,” Poe answered.

“The water didn’t do you them any favors,” Muran muttered. “They’re a cheap brand and it looks like they got shorted out.” Finally, the binders snapped open, releasing Poe.

“Thanks,” Poe said, staring down at his freed hands. "What time is it?"

"On this planet? It's about noon. Why?"

Poe didn't answer; that was later than he thought it'd be. He kept staring at his hands.

“Hey,” Muran said. Poe looked up to meet his dark eyes. “You don't look so good. You kinda look like a drowned rat. You ok?”

Poe gave a nod, but couldn’t find any words that could adequately answer Muran’s question. Everything felt sluggish and foggy—like it was all soft along the edges.

Muran frowned. He looked over the bruises and scratches on Poe’s face and gently felt along Poe’s scalp.

“Kriff,” Poe hissed when Muran hit a particularly tender spot.

“Sorry,” Muran said, gently moving Poe’s hair to get a better look at the injury. “What happened here?”

“I…I’m not sure,” Poe said. He didn’t remember hitting his head when he’d ejected from the A-Wing, but everything had happened so quickly, he wasn’t certain he hadn’t hit it on something. _A head injury would explain the fuzziness I’m feeling,_ he thought. 

“Looks like it hurts. You don’t remember getting this?” Muran asked, concern in his voice. 

“No,” Poe said with a small shake of his head. 

Muran sighed sympathetically and took his hand away from the injury on Poe’s head. “Looks like you might have a concussion, but you made it this long, so hopefully it’s not too bad. What happened to you?” he asked as he took one of Poe’s hands and gently rubbed his injured wrist.

“Over the water seemed like a better ejection point than above the rocks or trees,” Poe said distantly, staring at Muran’s hands on his wrists. For some reason, he didn’t want Muran to let go. He shook his head: he was exhausted and now was not the time for him to examine why the man’s hands felt so good on his skin. Or why a wave of relief had crashed over him when Muran had stepped off of the ship and ran to help him. Or wonder at how the man’s deep and steady voice exuded the kind of confidence that made Poe believe that everything was going to be alright. Or question if—Poe stopped himself from continuing down that line of thought and looked back at Muran. He had been talking, but Poe had missed some of it. He scowled—his focus was shot.

 _That would be the head injury,_ he thought helpfully. 

“—a good thing you managed to keep your tags on,” Muran was saying. “Between the coordinates you sent and the RFID ping from your tags, finding you was easy.” Muran paused and frowned as his brain caught up to his ears. “Wait a second—did you say ejection? How the hell did you—” 

Poe realized he wasn’t listening again; his frayed nerves were being pulled in too many directions. The relief from seeing Muran had faded and the anxiety had returned. They had to do…something. He pushed the relief and anxiety aside, trying to clear his mind enough to remember what he needed to do. “Where are the others?” he said, interrupting Muran.

Muran didn’t comment on the interruption. “We got your message, but we also got an urgent message from Beebee-Ate,” he explained. “We didn’t know what had happened to you, so we split up. I dropped Kun and Arana about three klicks to the west of the beacons for the X-Wings. They’re walking in.” Muran furrowed his brow. “Where’s Pava? Your message said she was with you.”

 _West,_ Poe thought, _west is good. West won’t bring them by…something. Something bad…what is it?_

“Poe…where’s Jess?” Muran asked again.

Jess’s name kickstarted Poe’s brain. Adrenaline coursed through his body. Jess—the _Schrei_ —Gloarten. All of the missing pieces in his frazzled mind dropped back into place. He looked up at Muran with wild eyes as the knot in his chest tightened again. “She was captured. I’ve gotta get back to Pava. He’s gonna kill her!”

Muran nodded. His expression had changed from concerned to focused and ready for the mission in a millisecond. “Tell me where to go.”

Poe pointed vaguely northeast. “That way.”

“Have anything else for me to go on?”

“Muran, I’m not even sure if she’s still on planet,” Poe replied sharply. He took a deep breath. “Sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

Muran didn’t say anything; he just squeezed Poe’s hand in understanding. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to help me. I have to find her—save her.”

The other pilot stood and offered his hand to Poe. “A computer will help with that,” he said.

Poe let Muran pull him to his feet and followed him into the ship.

“Do you have anything for us to start with?” Muran asked as he sat in the pilot’s seat.

“No,” Poe shook his head as he dropped heavily into the copilot’s seat. He rubbed his eyes—stars, he was tired and his head ached. “We had two E-Bags, but neither of them had an emergency beacon.”

“What about her datapad?”

“Waterlogged.”

“Did she have any other electronics with her?”

“No,” Poe shook his head miserably. Usually, he was better than this—sharper, quicker to find solutions. He was considered one of the best pilots in the galaxy, for kriff’s sake. But now, he felt out of sync. His mind was simultaneously restless and foggy: he knew he needed to do _something_ to help Muran find Jess, but his brain and body couldn’t figure out what or how. He groaned—he hated head injuries. 

“Do you remember the kind of ship? Anything?”

“Devaronian. But nothing really trackable,” Poe said. He dropped his head into his hands. “Ugh.”

“We’ll find her, Poe,” Muran promised. “Think—is there anything else we could use?”

Poe tried to focus—tried to think of anything that could help him locate Jess. He opened his eyes and saw his NRDF ID Tags swinging gently from around his neck.

“Can you track her tags?” Poe asked. “They’re cadet tags, so the signal won’t be as strong, but can you try?”

“If she still has them, yeah.”

“Force, I hope she still has them.”

“Then we’ll try,” Muran said, his fingers deftly flying over the ship’s console. “I don’t know her ID number, but I’ll do a general search for an NRDF chip. If she’s in range, we’ll get a ping off of her tags.”

“Please be in range,” Poe whispered, the knot in his chest cinching tighter as he watched Muran work. “Please be in range.”

A tone came from the computer. And then again. And again; pulsing. 

“That sounds good,” Poe said.

“Let me double-check before I get your hopes up,” Muran said, refining the search. 

“And?” Poe asked hopefully. 

“Assuming this is her, and there’s no reason to believe it isn’t, she’s still on planet,” Muran said. The knot in Poe’s chest loosened slightly. “Or at least, her tags are. I’ll call Kun and Arana, have them meet us—”

“No,” Poe said, shaking his head.

“What are you doing, Dameron?”

“This needs to involve as few people as possible.”

“Not sure I’m following you. It’s Arana and Kun.” 

“That’s two more people than need to know.” 

“Poe—you’re not making any sense.” 

Poe gritted his teeth. He didn’t want to betray Jess, but to get Muran on board, he’d have to tell him at least a little bit of what was going on. “Look…Jess’s background is rough, ok? Like…sealed file rough.”

“Yeah, and?” Muran asked. “You say that like it should surprise me. I know Jess, I know she has her secrets and keeps things pretty close to the vest.”

“You don’t know this,” Poe sighed. “No one knows this. And she is gonna be so mad at me for telling you.”

“Telling me what?”

“Jess was held as a slave as a child—”

“What—”

“—and she got out a while ago,” Poe continued, ignoring Muran’s interruption. “But when we were forced to land here, we ran into her former master. He has her now and we need to get her back.”

“And why won’t you let me call Kun and Arana?”

“Because Jess would hate it if I told them. She’s gonna hate that I told you, but I had to.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

“Pirates.”

“Excuse me? Did you just say ‘pirates’?”

Poe ignored his questions. “Specifically, a Mandalorian. Can you get us to the closest settlement? I’ll guide you from there.”

“Poe, let me call the rest of the squadron,” Muran pleaded.

“No.”

“I think she’d hate it more if we didn’t get her away from him than if we all know about her past.”

“Muran, please. I know what I’m doing.”

“You have a head injury. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“I am on this.”

“Really?”

“That’s why you’re here—make sure that I’m not doing something totally crazy,” Poe said with a shrug.

Muran sighed. “I have so many questions.”

“I know. And I’ll tell you what I can as soon as I can, but please…I need to find her. I promised I’d come back for her. I can’t fail her.”

The pilot nodded and turned back to his console.

“Nearest settlement looks like it’s to the east,” Muran said as he lifted the ship off the beach.

“Come at it from the north.”

“That’s not the most efficient route. It’ll add time. And it sounds like time is of the essence.”

“This is the way we have to use this time. Just do it.”

“Yes, sir,” Muran said and plotted the course.

Poe groaned again. His body hurt and his head throbbed. He hadn’t been able to do anything about his aches and pains before, but now Muran was here, and he had a ship. Which meant he should also have supplies. And if he had supplies, maybe Poe could now do something about his pain. 

“Do you have a medkit onboard?”

“Four complete plus two field kits. And a specialty bag prepared by Kalonia and Antilles. They’re in the main hold under the bench,” Muran informed him.

“Really?” Poe was surprised—that was far more than NRDF Cruisers normally carried.

“You said bring aid. I brought aid,” Muran shrugged. “And the extra bag was sent specifically when I said something about it being for you and Pava,” he smirked.

Poe flashed a weak grin. “Thanks.” He left the cockpit to grab a field kit before returning to his seat. With a twist, he broke the seal on the lid of the medkit and was grateful to find a bottle of painkillers on top. He took four pills immediately and pocketed the bottle for later. Next, he pulled out a tube of bacta cream and smeared some on his wrists before he wrapped them with clean bandages. He dabbed a bit of the cream on his head injury as well. Near the bottom of the bag, he found what he was really after and pulled out a stim.

Poe popped the plastic cover off, but before he could inject himself, Muran saw what he was doing. The other pilot reached over and grabbed Poe’s wrist to stop him from pushing the needle into his thigh.

“You sure you should be taking a stim?” Muran asked. “You likely have a concussion and you’ve been through hell these last few days.”

“What I’ve been through is nothing compared to Pava,” Poe replied. “And whether or not I should take it doesn’t matter, I need to—for her. I have to be sharp to get her out of there and I’ll be useless without it.”

“I can do it,” Muran offered. “I can go in wherever you need me to.”

“I appreciate the offer, Muran, but no. It has to be me,” Poe said.

“Why?” he asked, not letting go of Poe.

“It just does.” Poe looked pleadingly at his friend. “Please. She thinks I’m dead. I need her to know that I’m not. That I’m alive,” he whispered. “I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”

Muran gave Poe a hard look, but eventually relented and released Poe’s wrist. “Alright. But the second she’s on this ship, you’re lying down. No argument.”

“Yes, sir,” Poe said with a mock salute before he injected the stim into his thigh. The effects of the stim were almost immediate. He could feel his alertness and energy improving and strength returning to his limbs.

“We have some time before I get to the settlement. ‘Bout ten to fifteen minutes, I think. Go shower and get into some dry clothes while the stim takes effect. I’ll call you when we get there.”

Poe was hesitant to leave the cockpit. The suggestion of leaving the control console made him feel like he was letting go of what little control he had and that made the knot in his chest tighten again. “But—”

“You’re soaking wet, freezing cold, and wearing the same flight suit from four days ago. I didn’t fight the stim. I will fight this, though. Go,” Muran cut him off and jerked his thumb back. “Clothes and a blaster for you are in the bunk room.”

“You promise you’ll call when we’re close?”

Muran gave an exasperated chuckle. “Yes, Dameron. Now go.”

Poe nodded. “Thanks.” 

“Go!”

Ten minutes later, Poe returned to the cockpit, freshly showered and wearing clean, dry clothes.

“How’s it going?” he asked. The stim had taken full effect and he felt normal. Or close enough to normal to be able to help Jess. The effects of his head injury were at least manageable now. 

“Perfect timing, Boss. I was just about to call for you. We’re two minutes out from the settlement,” Muran said, pointing to the map. “You gonna tell me where we’re going from here?”

“Follow that road,” Poe said, pointing at the screen.

Poe followed the map he had made in his mind and compared it to the display in front of him. _Six turns and two veers to the left,_ he reminded himself.

“In a hovercart, it took about twenty minutes,” Poe said, so in a ship…”

“Five?” Muran suggested.

“We’ll need to go slow enough to find the turns.”

“Tell me where,” Muran said.

Poe felt a burst of appreciation for the man—one he knew he’d have to examine later. Muran’s easy acceptance of Poe’s (admittedly) half-comprehensible directions and his willingness to follow Poe into unknown risks to save someone he barely knew made Muran incredibly special. _As if I hadn’t known that before,_ Poe thought. Now, though, it felt like more.

Poe flipped on the H.U.D. and indicated each turn as he followed the nearly undiscernible trails that led to the Hy’thor Compound.

“There,” Poe said, pointing to a series of domed shapes nestled under a rocky outcropping.

Muran set the ship down outside of what appeared to be an abandoned compound.

“You’re sure this is the place?” Muran asked as he and Poe exited the ship.

Poe looked around. He hadn’t seen the outside of the pirates’ base and at first glance, the compound did seem long abandoned. But disguised security cameras, operating locks, and hidden sensors let Poe know he was in the right place.

“This is it,” he said confidently.

“How are we getting in?”

“Have a charge?” Poe asked.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m going to knock first, but if no one answers, I’m going to blow the front door.”

“That’s—”

“We don’t have time for manners or games.”

Muran shook his head but handed Poe a charge. Poe strode forward to the door and hammered his fist against it. A security cam zoomed towards him. Poe turned to face the camera and held up the charge. The camera retracted and a few moments later, the door slid open, revealing Sible and Nobu, each with a hand hovering over their blaster.

“What are you doing here?” Sible hissed. “And why is Pava not with you?” Poe ignored her questions and pushed past them. Muran followed close at his heels.

“Yashi! I need to talk to you!” Poe shouted as he quickly descended the stairs into the common room of the Hy'thor Group’s base. 

Lompiach was standing in the middle of the room, bristling with rage. “What are you doing here? How did you find us? And who is that?” the Nalroni growled, pointing at Muran.

“Where’s Pava?” Yashi asked.

“I’m not here for you, Lompiach, I’m here for Yashi.” Poe didn’t look at the Nalroni, keeping his gaze locked on the Mandalorian. “I need your help.”

Yashi was already on his feet. “What happened?”

“She was captured by slavers,” Poe told him. Yashi’s eyes widened slightly— _He knows,_ Poe realized—but none of the other pirates responded. “I have to get her out. And Pava told me that you’re muscle, that you’re a hitter. That if someone needs to go down, you’re the man for the job. I need to make sure these monsters go down. Are you in?”

“Of course,” Yashi said.

Poe nodded. The knot in his chest felt less suffocating knowing that Yashi would help.

“No,” Lompiach said. 

Yashi turned. “What?”

“We don’t interfere with slavers,” Lompiach said. “It is the Code.”

“The Code?” Yashi repeated incredulously.

“If you leave with this pilot, if you break the Code, you cannot return to the Hy’thor Group.”

Yashi’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You owe Pava your life. And you’re going to go back to following the Code to the letter _now_? You’re a coward, Lompiach.”

“Am I, Yashi?” Lompiach stood and stared down at Yashi, using his full height to try and intimidate the man.

Yashi glared back. “Yes. And I swear, if you turn your back on me—on _Pava_ —now, the galaxy will know that you’re a coward. I’ll make sure that everyone knows that your word means nothing and you don’t pay your debts,” Yashi said.

“Get out,” Lompiach snarled. “Take your things and get out.”

Yashi narrowed his eyes. “With pleasure.” He shoved past Lompiach and went to one of the archways. “I’ll be right back,” Yashi said to Poe before disappearing up the stairs.

Poe and Muran stood awkwardly with the remaining pirates, waiting for Yashi to return. Nobu stood with his arms crossed across his chest, watching disinterestedly while Sible and Kitrun whispered on one of the couches, throwing cautious glances at Lompiach and Poe. Veer and Laslo stood by the door, each with a hand on their blaster, and Dorlig scowled contemptuously at the two pilots. Lompiach stared after Yashi before turning and glaring at Poe.

“Nice friends you made here, Poe,” Muran muttered under his breath as the Nalroni stalked towards them.

“Allow me to make something perfectly clear to you, Poe,” Lompiach snarled, “if you ever dare to come back here, I will not hesitate to kill you. You have worn out my hospitality.”

“Noted,” Poe said. “But you should know that if we ever run into each other again, I won’t hesitate to report you to the NRDF and arrest you and your whole gang. And if you resist, I won’t waver when I give the order for all ships to fire on you. We have a lot more firepower than you do. Am I clear?”

The Nalroni growled deep in his throat and stepped closer to Poe, his hand moving to his blaster. “Then perhaps I don’t let you leave here alive after all.”

Poe’s hand moved towards his blaster, but Muran pushed Poe behind him.

“Back off,” Muran said, raising his blaster. “I am here under official orders from the NRDF. Do you really want to bring that kind of heat down on yourself?”

Lompiach barked a laugh. “Who is this, your bodyguard?”

“I’m Captain Muran of the New Republic Defense Fleet. I was sent on a retrieval mission for two stranded pilots and I would be well within my authority to shoot anyone who interferes with that objective,” Muran said levelly. “Don’t test me.” 

“You versus all of my men?” Lompiach snickered. “We outnumber you.”

“And I have better training,” Muran replied, unphased by the threat. “Do you want to risk it?”

“Everybody just stop,” Yashi said as he stepped back into the room, a bag slung over his shoulder and his helmet in his hand. “We’re leaving, Lompiach. No need for you to try and prove your alpha-status. Especially now that we all know it’s just for show.”

Muran slowly lowered his blaster, but kept his eyes on the tall Nalroni.

“Leave,” Lompiach ordered, looking contemptuously between the two pilots and the Mandalorian. “Leave and never return.” He turned and stalked out of the room.

Sible watched Lompiach vanish down a staircase and looked back at Yashi with sad eyes.

“I have to go, Sible,” Yashi said. “I’m not going to leave her in the hands of slavers. Lompiach and his code be damned.”

“I know,” Sible nodded. “You _should_ go.”

“We’ve worked together for a long time. You could come with me—I could use a crewmate,” Yashi said.

Sible shook her head and jerked her thumb back in the direction that Lompiach had disappeared in. “Thanks for the offer, but someone’s gotta deal with him.” She stood and walked over to the Mandalorian. “You take care of yourself.”

“You, too,” Yashi said and offered his hand.

“And keep in touch. He’ll cool down eventually. And he’ll miss you. Your skills are second to none,” Sible said and shook his hand.

“I won’t be back,” Yashi said darkly. 

“I know, but I can hope,” she said with a smirk before she went up on her toes and kissed his cheek. Sible then turned and looked at Poe. “When you get Pava back—take care of her for me. She deserves it.”

Poe nodded. “I know. I will,” he promised.

“Let’s get out of here,” Yashi said, walking towards the door. “Kitrun, Sible, it’s been a pleasure. The rest of you, good luck.” He gave a lazy salute and walked up the stairs and out the front door with Poe and Muran close behind.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Yashi wheeled around. “Where is she? Where’s Pava?”

“Poe, who is this?” Muran asked, gesturing to the Mandalorian.

“Who the hell are you?” Yashi spat back at Muran.

“Muran, Yashi. Yashi, Muran. NRDF Pilot, Pirate/Bounty Hunter,” Poe gave quick introductions. “What matters is that we all care about Pava. And as far as we know, she’s still on planet,” Poe said. “So now we need to go get her. Yashi, how much do you know?”

“How much do I know about what?” Yashi repeated and gave Poe a confused look. Sudden understanding crossed his face when he realized what Poe was actually asking. “I know enough.”

“It’s Gloarten. Gloarten has her.”

“Kriff.” Yashi’s face twisted with wrath at the Devaronian’s name. “Then we don’t have any time to lose. I hope you have a plan.”

 _‘I have a blaster and a bad attitude,’_ Jess’s voice said in Poe’s head. He almost laughed—that was about all he had now, too. 

“Not yet,” Poe said, “but I’ll think of something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this, folks, is what we'll call the cavalry. 
> 
> This chapter wasn't going to be this long, but I started writing Muran and kinda loved him, so he's getting more face time than originally planned.
> 
> Comments, questions, concerns, snide remarks (if they're funny), and kudos all welcomed and responded to. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING: I don't usually add this because I try to tag my stories in a way that is self-explanatory and that you know what you're getting into. But this chapter has a lot more physical abuse than I typically write (I tend to be a 'leave it to your imagination' style writer when it comes to the infliction of injuries). It's not particularly graphic, but I wanted to give everyone a fair warning. If you think there needs to be an additional tag, please let me know.
> 
> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

A groan escaped Jess’s lips as she was dragged back to consciousness. Everything hurt. She cracked her eyes open to confirm what she already knew—she was back in the cell on the _Schrei,_ her wrists again cuffed in front of her and a shackle locked around her ankle, connecting her to the wall. How she’d gotten back to the cell, though, was fuzzy. The last clear memory she had was from when she was tied to the landing gear in the storm _. I was hit in the head by…something…a tree branch, I think. Did I pass out?_ She wondered. She closed her eyes, wishing this was just a nightmare, but knowing it was real.

 _‘A head injury! And while doing ship maintenance?’_ a voice said.

Jess’s eyes flew open. Sitting on the edge of the cot was Niv, dressed in his orange flight suit. The room was a strange blend of the cell she knew she was in and the NRDF Med Bay. The whole scene sort of...shimmered around Niv. Jess frowned—she wasn’t in the med bay and Niv wasn’t really here. She knew he wasn’t, but her eyes disagreed.

 _‘Typical. Have they done a cognitive assessment yet? Are you going to be able to fly today?’_ Niv said, his crisp Core accent exactly as Jess remembered it.

And she remembered that conversation—it was after she’d hit her head while working on an A-Wing in the Maintenance Bay. While she didn’t remember the injury exactly, she knew it had knocked her out and she’d lost time. It had ended with her in the Med Bay and Niv sitting on the edge of her bed scolding her, just like he was now. This wasn’t real—this was a replay of a previous event.

“What the hell?”

‘ _I told you to wait for me and what did you do? Tried to fix the bloody thing yourself!’_ Niv said, exasperated. _‘I mean, what did you think was going to happen?’_

“You’re not real,” she said to Niv. Jess pushed the memory out of her head. Niv blurred out of focus before he disappeared altogether, along with the Med Bay. She didn’t want to remember that conversation. She didn’t want to remember the Academy Maintenance Bay. She didn’t want to remember Niv. She didn’t want to remember any of it. Jess squeezed her eyes closed.

When she opened her eyes, Jess was alone in her cell with just her aching body and dark thoughts for company.

Lompiach’s warning about the storm hadn’t been an overstatement, Jess had learned. The temperature dropped to just above freezing and the rain had come down so hard that it had felt as if she was being stabbed by millions of needles. Fine grains of sand had been thrown up by the wind and blasted against her skin and into her eyes, nose, and mouth. All of her exposed skin felt scratched and raw and her eyes still stung. She could feel the grit between her teeth. The wind had been so strong it had ripped the shrubby trees out of the ground and sent them flying across the terrain. Lightning bolts bigger than Jess had ever seen had ripped the sky in two, blinding her and the following thunder had rattled her teeth. The storm had been so loud that Jess hadn’t been able to hear her own screams of pain and anger. She was almost surprised that she could still hear at all—and that she wasn’t dead. The Nalroni had said that ten minutes would kill a person. She was pretty sure that she’d been outside for longer than that.

 _Gloarten must have decided he wants me alive,_ she thought. She wasn’t sure if the realization made her more grateful or disappointed.

The cell was still freezing, causing her to shiver all over and the intense light above her stung her eyes. She wondered how long they’d left her out in the storm. And how long ago they’d brought her in. Her hair was still damp from the rain, but her clothes were now mostly dry. She guessed she’d been inside for a while. Every muscle was sore and every joint ached from the cold and the storm. 

She closed her eyes and drifted.

_‘Repeat after me: The Republic Will Not Be Intimidated By You.’_

Jess opened her eyes again. The far wall of the cell was no longer the gray durasteel she knew it was, but was instead one of the screen walls at the Academy. Jess was back in an NRDF classroom. The shimmering quality was back, but instead of Niv, Admiral Antilles stood in front of her, giving a lecture on Advanced Interrogation Techniques and how to resist them by using an interrogation mantra.

It was another memory.

“This isn’t real,” Jess said quietly. She pushed the memory away and watched as Antilles and the NRDF classroom faded away. They couldn’t help her here. She was on her own. 

Jess closed her eyes again and did an inventory of her body. The general sense of ‘pain’ flooded her mind, but she pushed past it, sorting out each injury and determining its severity. Her head was pounding. She gingerly reached up to touch her scalp and found a large and tender knot just above her ear. She tried to focus on what had caused the injury. _A flying tree branch,_ she remembered. The storm had sent a large branch hurdling towards her. It must have hit her and knocked her out. She continued down her body to her shoulders, which ached from the uncomfortable position her arms had been bound in for so long, but it didn’t feel like there was any cause for alarm—just tight muscles. Her face…well, she had a pretty good idea what it looked like. She concentrated on the individual injuries: windburned and chapped skin, black eye, split lip, bloody nose, bruised cheekbone, scratches along her jawline, and lots of bruises. Nothing felt broken, though.

She slowly worked the rest of the way down her body. The cuffs had irritated the skin on her wrists, but the injuries were superficial. Two fingers felt jammed, but not broken— _from when they shoved me into the L.O.C. Box,_ she remembered. Her spine was stiff from sitting hunched over against the landing gear for so long, though it didn’t feel like any real damage had been done. The muscles in her back ached and her skin was tight, making her believe it was likely colored black and blue with bruises. A few ribs were cracked and her entire abdomen felt like one giant bruise. If she controlled her breathing, the pain wasn’t too bad.

_‘The most important thing for you to do is control your breathing. If you have to eject and your mask is correctly affixed to your helmet, you’ll have about two hours of air. But not if you panic.’_

Wexley. Jess knew that voice. She knew this memory. Another class—this one in a simulation room. Not one of the ones with individual pods for pilots, but one where the entire space could be manipulated for terrain, weather, gravity, and more. They had been learning how to eject from their fighters. It wasn’t a perfect simulation, but it was the safest option. Commander Norra Wexley looked just like she had the last time Jess had seen her, but her image was a little…softer on the edges—not as real.

_‘When you eject, if you do it right, it’ll be cold, constricting, and miserable. Basically, it’ll suck, but you’ll be alive. If you breathe too rapidly though, you’ll burn through your life support system too quickly. This is why we learn proper breathing techniques: to control our response. Everyone, try this…’_

Jess thought about the breathing exercises Wexley had taught at the Academy and—and quickly shut that line of thought down. She used the breathing method, but didn’t allow herself to attach faces or names to it. She pushed Wexley and the simulation room away, leaving her alone again in the cell.

She continued down her body, mentally logging every injury. Her hip felt bruised, but she couldn’t pinpoint when that injury occurred. Maybe when Poe had—she pushed that thought from her mind. _It must have happened when Gloarten had knocked me out the first time_ , she thought. Bruises littered her legs and her feet were cold and tender—a combination of being forced to walk on the rocky terrain without boots, being left outside in the storm, and the icy temperature of the cell. She sighed: walking would be painful.

But all of that was insignificant to the pain in Jess’s knee. She looked down and could see the swelling through her compression leggings—it was almost twice the size of her other knee. She definitely remembered getting that injury—it started when she’d told Gloarten she’d never race for him and then was exasperated when he’d stomped on it while he’d been beating her. The memory of the look on his face when she’s said she wouldn’t race for him almost made the pain worth it, but not quite.

“Kriff,” she whispered. She sat up slowly and gently probed her swollen knee with her fingertips, hissing when the pain shot up and down her leg again. She didn’t think it was broken or dislocated, but she could tell it was bad. A severe sprain or torn tendons seemed likely. She tried to move it and gasped.

“Kriff. No, no, no.” She laid back down and squeezed her eyes closed tightly, willing herself not to cry. She’d seen tendon injuries before. If she didn’t get help, _real medical help,_ her knee wouldn’t heal correctly and she would likely be left with a permanent limp. If that happened, she’d never be fast enough to escape. And she’d almost certainly never be able to fly or race again.

 _‘Don’t talk like that.’_ Poe said. He was sitting on a rock across the cell from her. _‘Fatalism doesn’t suit you,’_ he said as he took a bite from a rations packet.

Jess huffed a cynical laugh. Of course Poe would haunt her now.

“You’re not here,” she told the vision of Poe. “You’re dead because of me. And now I’m here alone.”

_‘The NRDF will send a search party.’_

“To Jerne,” Jess said. The conversation was less than a week old, she knew how it went. “That’s where you told them we are. They won’t come here.”

‘ _Beebee-Ate will contact Muran.’_

Jess knew she probably shouldn’t continue the conversation, but she couldn’t help herself. “You think Rapier will just come? Without anything more than a weird message from your droid?”

_‘I do.’_

“You really did have that much faith in people, didn’t you? That people will show up and do the right thing?”

_‘Yes.’_

The simplicity of his answer sparked Jess’s anger. “How? How can you have that much faith in people?” she shouted and dropped her head back on the cot. “Having faith in people is risky. It makes you less cautious. I wouldn’t even _be_ here if I hadn’t had faith in what Antilles told me. I would have done my three years in prison and I’d be out. But instead, I said yes to his insane plan of me becoming an NRDF Pilot. And then I met you and I _cared_ about someone. And now I’m here. And because Gloarten figured out that I cared about you, he killed you.” Jess’s voice cracked. “I failed you, Poe, because that’s what people do—they fail. It’s what _I_ do. And having faith in them, in _me_ , is stupid and dangerous and it cost you your life.” She sat up and looked at the image of her friend. “It’s my fault you’re dead. So tell me how—how can you have that much faith in people?”

Poe looked up and considered Jess. _‘I had that much faith in you.’_

Jess paused. _That_ was different—Poe hadn’t said that by the lake.

“What?” Jess asked, unsure of what she’d heard.

 _‘I had that much faith in you.’_ He repeated.

“You shouldn’t have.”

_‘I still do.’_

“Why?” Jess was pretty sure that engaging the hallucination was a bad idea, but was unable to help herself. _I’ll have to ask my psytech about that…if I ever get out of here_ , Jess thought distantly.

_‘You know why.’_

“No…no, I don’t. Please, tell me why.”

 _Poe smiled._ _‘This is in your head, J. You’re bright. You’ll figure it out.’_

Cautious footsteps from down the hall drew Jess’s attention. When she looked back at where Poe had been sitting, the shimmer had faded and he was gone. 

Jess looked back to the cell bars to see Mattis poke his head around the corner of the cell.

“Hey,” Jess said softly. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see for myself that you are still alive.”

Jess gave a soft chuckle. “Yeah, I’m still here.”

“I am glad. I thought you might die.”

“I thought I might, too,” Jess tried to push herself up to lean against the wall. Her ribs ached and she hissed at the pain throbbing in her knee, but pushed through until she was upright. She focused on the boy. No memories of the boy existed in her mind and the world didn’t shimmer around him, so she was pretty sure that this was real. “Ugh. What time is it?”

“Master has just had second meal.”

Jess furrowed her brow. “When did _you_ last eat?”

“I was given rations yesterday,” Mattis replied.

Jess clenched her jaw. She wished there was something she could do to help the boy, but she was in just as bad a position as he was. “How long have I been unconscious?” she asked instead.

“Since they brought you in last night.”

“So we’re talking 15 to 16 hours?” Jess said.

“I do not know if this planet operates on a 24-hour cycle.”

Jess coughed a laugh—her ribs protesting at the movement.

Mattis furrowed his brow. “How is that funny?” Jess could tell it was a genuine question.

“It’s not,” Jess said. “It’s…it was unexpected.” She cleared her throat. “So you really came all the way down here to make sure I was alive?”

Mattis shrugged. “I guess. I did not know where else to be.” He hesitated. “Who were you talking to?”

“What?”

“I heard you talking. Who were you talking to?” he asked again.

“Umm…” Jess didn’t know what to say. “No one, I guess.”

“I understand. I know that they gave you a drug,” Mattis said. “It makes you see things. People, mainly. I think maybe memories? The drugs make them sparkly.”

“Figured as much,” Jess said.

“Who did you see?”

Jess hesitated before answering. “My friends. And a few instructors from the Academy.” She paused. “Has he given that drug to you?”

Mattis nodded. “I usually see a woman with dark hair telling me she will find me. She will not, though, I know this. Master has made sure that no one will find me.”

Jess shook her head. “Gloarten isn’t as smart as he thinks he is.”

“You do not call him Master. Why?”

“I refuse to give him that power.”

“But he already has it. He already has that power.”

Jess scoffed. “Yeah. I guess so. But no need to give him the satisfaction.”

“But what if he hurts you?” the boy asked nverously.

Jess clenched her jaw. She didn’t think it was possible for her to hate Gloarten more than she did, but he’d managed to prove her wrong.

“I think as long as I’m here, buddy, he’s gonna be paying a lot more attention to and much more interested in hurting me than he is you.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not doing it for you.”

“I know,” the boy said. “Still.”

Jess’s lips quirked. “You’re welcome.”

“Where are you, boy?” Gloarten’s voice echoed down the corridor.

Mattis looked in the direction of the shouting, his eyes tinged with fear.

“Get out of here,” Jess said and nodded down the hall in the other direction. “I won’t let him know I saw you.”

Mattis nodded and ran down the hall, out of sight.

Jess sighed and slid down so she was lying on her back again, staring at the ceiling.

“Show yourself, boy!” Gloarten bellowed. His heavy footsteps grew closer and closer until he was right outside Jess’s cell. “I know you’re around here somewhere.”

“Must you be so loud?” Jess asked, drawing attention to herself. “It’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

“So you survived.” Gloarten’s voice was somewhere between amused and disinterested.

“Apparently,” Jess replied. “Are you disappointed?”

Gloarten ignored her question. “Did you learn your lesson?”

“And what lesson was it that I was supposed to learn?” Jess replied sharply.

“That I own you, _Girl,_ ” he snarled. “You live or die by my choice alone.”

Jess scoffed. “Unless I do it for you.”

“Still have that mouth, don’t you?”

“I don’t have the patience for your bullshit, if that’s what you mean.”

“He’s been here, hasn’t he?”

“Who?”

“The boy! My slave.”

“Haven’t seen him.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Why would I lie? I’ve been pretty transparent about what I’m thinking so far, why start lying now?” Jess asked rhetorically. “You know, you don’t seem like the most responsible slave owner—first you made a wager with me and I _won_ , so you had to free me, and now you can’t find one boy on your ship. Should you really be allowed to have slaves? Maybe you should have a pet to practice with?”

Gloarten narrowed his eyes at Jess. “You will regret that. You think I need a pet? I could make _you_ my pet. I could put a collar around that neck of yours and a muzzle to control that mouth. I’d have you lie at my feet like a docile beast—tamed at last.”

“Put a collar on me and you’ll just give me another way to kill myself. Wanna try it? I dare you,” Jess said dangerously, her eyes flashing. 

“You keep saying things like that. Which makes me wonder: are you actually suicidal?” Gloarten asked. “If given the chance, would you fly your ship into the event horizon of a collapsing star? Does the NRDF keep you on a tighter leash than I ever did?”

“Are you asking ‘do I want to die?’ Not particularly, no,” Jess shook her head. “But would I rather die than live under your thumb? Absolutely.”

Gloarten didn’t respond as he turned to walk away.

 _Don’t do it,_ Jess’s mind told her. _You’ve already poked him with a stick. Don’t keep going._

 _But if he finds Mattis now, he’ll take his anger out on him,_ the other part of her brain said. _And that’s on you._

“I’m so gonna regret this,” Jess whispered to herself and pushed herself upright. “This didn’t go how you planned it, did it?” she shouted after him. “Your plan for me failed, didn’t it? Just like every other scheme you’ve ever had. Racing, slave trading, spice running—it’s all failed in the end.”

He whipped around and came back to the cell door. “You dare speak to me like that?” he hissed.

“Cut the bullshit,” Jess said. “I’ll speak to you however I damn well please. You’re acting like you’re so much more important than you are.”

Gloarten glared at her. “How do you think I planned this to go?”

“I think you expected me to be a mess after last night, am I right?” Jess said. She leaned her head back against the wall and looked down her nose at him, projecting as much indifference and disdain as she could. “After last night, you expected me to be pitifully groveling at your feet, willing to do whatever you wanted to avoid being punished again. _Begging_ you to never do that again. Right?” Gloarten let out a low growl and Jess smirked. “I am, aren’t I? Sorry to disappoint you.”

“One night doesn’t matter. I’ll break you. You’ll beg before I’m done with you.”

“Is that why you use drugs now?” Jess asked.

Gloarten gave her a look that might have bordered on impressed. “Figured that out, did you?”

“Don’t know what exactly you dosed me with,” Jess said with a shrug, “but I know what it feels like to be drugged. So what’s the point of it? It doesn’t cause pain. It doesn’t spike adrenaline or drop serotonin. And it doesn’t seem to interrupt neurotransmitters. It doesn’t even really cause hallucinations—it brings back memories. So what’s the point of it?”

“Despair.”

“Not following.”

“It shows you what you’ve lost. What you’ll never have again. Maybe right now they bring you a modicum of comfort, but soon, those memories will haunt you until you can’t stand it any longer and you will beg for them to end. And then when you are free of those memories, free of your past lurking you around every corner, you will be so grateful that you’ll finally submit to me.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Yes. It will,” Gloarten grinned maliciously. “I’ve seen it before. When I start increasing your doses…when your memories and your reality are indistinguishable…you will submit to me. Every slave does.”

“I won’t.”

“And why not?”

“Because I would rather die than be a slave again. And that’s not changing,” Jess said with fire behind her words. “And those faces…they’ll keep me fighting. For as long as it takes, for as long as I’m alive, I’ll keep fighting to see those faces again.”

“Brave words from a pathetic creature who can’t even stand on her own.” The Devaronian gestured to her injured knee. “Humans are such fragile creatures,” he mocked.

“Proud of your handiwork?” Jess asked.

“I could give you a brace for it,” Gloarten offered. “We both know that without treatment, it could be a crippling injury.” He grinned as he put a voice to Jess’s fears.

“You don’t give things, Gloarten. Never have. What’s the trade?” Jess asked.

Gloarten grinned dangerously. “Beg me for it. Call me Master.”

“No.”

“It’s a simple trade—beg for it and call me Master, and you’ll get medical supplies. It’s not the worst trade you’ve made—we both know you’ve made far worse.”

“Keep them.”

“Your pride is worth that much?”

“When I don’t plan on living long enough for this to matter,” she gestured to her knee, “yeah. It is. And it’s not even pride. Not really. I’m just not going to give you the satisfaction of thinking you’ve won.”

“I _have_ won.”

Jess shook her head. “No…no you haven’t. Cause I’m still here—and I’m still pushing back. Until I stop…the war’s not over.”

Jess heard the pings of the keypad and the cell door slide open. Gloarten’s heavy steps echoed across the room as he stormed towards her cot.

“Say it again,” he dared her.

“Which part?” Jess replied. She was impressed with herself for how steady her voice was. Barely able to sit up on the cot, bound, and injured with Gloarten towering over her was not a memory she’d ever hoped to relive.

“All of it. Any of it. Say it,” he growled.

“You’re pathetic and weak. An insult to the Devaronian peoples. You—”

The backhand wasn’t unexpected. Jess felt one of his nails catch the skin of her cheek and split it open.

“—you are cruel, vulgar, and stupid. You are a weak leader—”

Another hit landed, this one on her shoulder joint. He pulled the chain connected to her ankle so she slid down and was again lying prone on the cot.

“—and lack creativity in anything you do. You’re compensating for the fact—”

Gloarten continued to beat her, putting bruises on top of bruises.

Jess gritted her teeth. “You compensate for the fact that you’re a fool. A fool and a failure.” 

A final hit in her stomach made Jess curl up in pain.

“Wait here,” Gloarten growled and stalked out of the cell. 

“Like I have a choice,” Jess managed. 

Minutes passed before he returned, pushing a cart and with a droid floating along next to him.

Jess’s breath caught in her throat. She knew what kind of droid that was.

“Do you know what this is?” Gloarten asked.

“Yes,” Jess replied shortly, her eyes locked on the droid.

 _‘This is an IT-O Interrogator Droid.’_ A vision of Antilles stood next to the droid. The walls were again blurred between the cell and the same classroom as before. This was a different lesson, though. _‘The ISB created and controlled these throughout the reign of the Empire. All known IT-Os were destroyed in the early days of the New Republic. If you come across one that was not, however, destroy it and report it immediately to Command. They are a prime example of the Empire’s cruelty and ingenuity.’_

“It’s an IT-O Interrogator Droid. Designed and built by the Imperial Security Bureau,” he said as if she hadn’t responded. “Beautiful craftsmanship, don’t you think? Sleek. Dangerous.”

“Those were all supposed to be decommissioned years ago,” Jess said.

“Lucky for me, I found one in working order,” Gloarten leered. “It’s not up to Imperial standards, of course, but it suits my purposes quite well.”

Jess inhaled sharply, unable to look away from the hovering black droid. For the first time since she had been captured, she was truly afraid.

Gloarten grinned. “I see that my droid has made an impact on you. Good. Now, this first drug,” he continued conversationally, “will lower your pain tolerance, but it will keep you conscious. I remember from past experience that you have a very high pain tolerance, so I’ve adjusted the dose with that in mind.” The droid came closer, its needle out and ready to inject.

“How thoughtful,” Jess managed as the needle pierced her skin. She desperately clung to the last shreds of defiance and insubordination she had, but within seconds of the drug being injected, she knew it was a losing battle. She felt like acid was running through her veins. The pain she’d been in before the drug had been injected was _nothing_ compared to the agony she was feeling now. Her entire body felt like it was on fire as she writhed in anguish.

“And this one,” Gloarten said as the IT-O revealed another syringe, “is a paralytic. It won’t kill you, but it will take away all control of your body. Don’t worry, though, it won’t paralyze your vocal cords—in case you want to beg for mercy.”

Jess tried to shift as far away from the droid as possible, but it was no use. The droid pushed the second needle into her neck. Immediately, her limbs felt heavy and non-responsive.

 _No!_ she thought and fought to keep control of her body. Nothing helped, though, and in less than a minute, she couldn’t move anything below her neck. Panic that Jess hadn’t experienced in years started to rise in her body at the loss of control. Until this moment, she’d managed to hold on to a measure of control, but now, Gloarten had taken that, too. She forced herself to take as deep of breaths as her ribs would allow—she couldn’t panic: not here, not now.

Gloarten grabbed her by the shoulder and dragged her back to the center of the cot. He picked up her arms by the binders and let them drop heavily back onto her stomach. Jess gasped in pain.

“Excellent,” Gloarten grinned. “That will make this next part so much easier.”

“You don’t want information, Gloarten,” Jess gritted out. “So what do you want?”

“I would think that’s obvious, _girl_ ,” Gloarten said. He’d turned away from her to do something out of Jess’s line of sight. “I want your subjugation. I want your humiliation. I want your loyalty.”

“Loyalty?” Jess scoffed. “What do you know about loyalty?”

“I know that loyalty is born one of two ways. One is through faith and trust in another person—as you so foolishly showed to that pilot I killed,” Gloarten said with a smirk. Jess squeezed her eyes closed at the mention of Poe. “The other way is through the threat of something worse on the horizon.”

“That’s not loyalty. That’s fear,” Jess shot back.

“It serves the same purpose,” Gloarten said with a shrug. “And one is easier to manipulate.” The cuffs were disengaged and Gloarten pulled her right arm over to him. He shoved her gray sleeve up and ran his clawed nails over the tattoo, hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to break the skin.

Jess hissed and tried to pull her arm away, but it didn’t respond.

“You didn’t get it removed. How interesting,” Gloarten grinned.

“It reminds me why I fight,” Jess said through gritted teeth.

“Can’t fight now, can you?” he said and reached for the cart. When he turned back, Jess flinched: he was holding a tattoo gun.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten your mark filled in after all,” Gloarten grinned. “No matter. I’ve bought my own machine and can do it myself. And look at that, you’ve even left me a template,” he said, running his claw along the last line of data: _his line_ of data.

“Don’t,” Jess said before she could stop herself.

“Oh? What was that?” 

Jess clenched her jaw, refusing to say another word.

“I would say ‘hold still’, but…you don’t have a choice, do you?” Gloarten mocked. He turned the machine on and brought the buzzing needle to Jess’s arm.

Every touch of the needle was agony. The chemical coursing through her veins multiplied the pain to an unbearable level.

Jess turned her face away to hide the tears falling down her cheeks. She bit her lip until it bled as Gloarten pushed the ink deep into her skin.

Time seemed to have stopped moving. Jess’s entire world was focused on the singularity of this new pain.

After what seemed like an eternity, the buzzing of the machine stopped. Jess’s arm throbbed in pain, but it no longer had the intensity she’d been experiencing before.

“Now, was that so bad?” Gloarten asked, putting the tattoo gun away.

Talking seemed beyond Jess’s abilities, but she refused to let Gloarten think she was beaten. “Fuck you,” Jess managed. She could taste the blood in her mouth from her bitten lip.

Gloarten’s lips curled into a snarl. “Even now, you still defy me?”

“Until my last breath,” Jess said, her words far stronger than she felt.

“We’ll see about that,” Gloarten said. He stood and pushed the cart to the cell door, leaving her hands uncuffed. It wasn’t as if she could do anything with the paralytic in her system. At the cell door, he turned at looked back at Jess. “The drugs will wear off in a few hours. Until then, I’ll leave you in the capable care of the IT-O droid. Have a good night.”

The cell door slid shut, leaving Jess alone in the bright, cold, and empty cell with the Interrogation Droid.

 _‘If you are subjected to an IT-O’s torture methods—there is no resisting them,’_ Antilles appeared near the cell door, his eyes locked on Jess’s. ‘ _It can be programmed to cause either no permanent injuries or to use whatever means necessary to break their prisoner. They are programmed to cause as much pain as possible by targeting sensitive areas of the body: genitals, joints, neck, feet, and other less obvious body parts. There is no negotiating with them. They do not show mercy. Do what you can to try and survive. And if you are carrying classified intel, don’t try to outlast it. Let it kill you—take your secrets to your grave.’_

The droid scanned her body, identifying what would cause her the most pain. She already knew it would focus on her knee, maybe her feet so she couldn’t walk. The droid hovered by her knee with a large needle.

Jess didn’t believe that Gloarten would let this machine kill her, but she prayed it would. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes closed as the droid began its work. Within seconds, she whimpered from the pain.

 _‘I’m not going to leave you here. Not when I could save you,’_ Poe said from across the cell, a stricken look on his face, as if he could see what was happening to her.

Jess remembered this conversation from the L.O.C. Box. It was the last one they’d had. She opened her eyes and focused on Poe. She knew he wasn’t really there, but his presence, even if it was imagined, gave her a degree of comfort in the midst of the pain.

She knew what she’d said next: “There are other people to save, Poe. A whole galaxy of them. I’m not worth risking your life for.” But she couldn’t respond to the drug-induced vision.

 _‘You’re worth the risk, don’t try to change my mind. And I’ll find you. I promise,’_ he swore, still so convinced that he could—that she was worth it.

“You tried,” Jess said softly between gasps of pain.

 _‘I’ll succeed,’_ Poe said. She could see the certainty in his eyes. The foolish certainty that made him believe in people. That same certainty that she had seen in him and believed in, too.

“You died,” Jess said and cried out in pain. 

_‘I’m not going to leave you behind,’_ Poe swore.

Tears clouded Jess’s vision, blurring Poe from her sight. “But you did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeek. That was a lot. Like, yikes.
> 
> So if you've read "Make a Martyr Out of Me", you might notice that this new tattoo wasn't in it. That's because the idea came to me just recently and I couldn't shake it. So 'Martyr' has been updated to reflect the new tattoo. 
> 
> I'm almost done torturing Jess. I promise. And she'll be ok, she's just not right now.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments, kudos, and otherwise are the best. :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

The sun was about to set and, in Poe’s mind at least, they were no closer to getting Jess back from Gloarten’s clutches. He paced back and forth in front of the ship, watching the sun sink lower in the sky while Muran commed Kun and Arana and Command. Yashi had disappeared an hour before to go do surveillance on Gloarten’s ship and place some hidden security sensors around the ship. 

Eventually, Poe stopped and leaned against the ship’s hull, fidgeting with Shara's ring that he wore around his neck.

“Well, that was fun,” Muran said, announcing his arrival as he strode down the ramp. Poe quickly tucked the ring back into his shirt as Muran came to stand next to him. 

“What’d they say?”

“Well, Command just wants you both back safely, so they said do what I need to.” 

“And by Command you mean Antilles, don’t you?”

“Maybe,” Muran shrugged. “Kun and Arana were a little harder. They got to your ships alright and made the repairs. Apparently, your droid is being particularly ornery about the fact that they aren’t allowed to come to your rescue. Our squadmates aren’t exactly thrilled to be sidelined, either, but they’re good pilots and will stand by until I give an order.” 

“When _you_ give the order?” Poe asked.

“Yeah. Technically, I’m in charge of this rescue mission,” Muran said, nudging Poe. “And you hate that, don’t you?” Muran said, his tone deflated. “It wasn’t my call—"

“No, no. I’m glad,” Poe cut him off. He couldn't let Muran think that he didn't like that the younger man was in command. Muran might have been the youngest in Rapier Squadron, but he was an extremely talented pilot and tactician. He deserved the chance to be a leader. “You were the right choice.” 

“Oh yeah?” Muran asked, cautious surprise in his voice.

“Yeah,” Poe nodded. “No one I’d trust more to get Pava and me out of here. And I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you doubt my faith in your abilities.” He hesitated before adding. “You were the one I knew would come.” 

An expression crossed Muran’s face that Poe couldn’t quite place, but it was gone just as quickly. “So,” Muran cleared his throat, looking off in the direction the Mandalorian had gone, “do we trust him?”

“Yashi? Yeah. Well, enough to think he’ll help us get Jess back. And that he won’t kill us,” Poe said. “But not much more than that.”

“But he knows Jess. And she trusts him,” Muran surmised.

“Yeah, they know each other from before she came to the NRDF Academy. And I’d say she trusts him as much as I do. Maybe a little bit more. But speaking of which, don’t say her first name to him. He only knows her as Pava. And don’t call me Dameron. Just use Poe.” 

Muran raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s a long story,” Poe said. “Or maybe it’s not. I don’t know. Jess told me not to.” 

“Pava told you not to,” Muran corrected with a sly grin. 

Poe smiled. “Yeah. That’s it.”

Muran chuckled before his face grew serious. “Have you taken a second stim?”

“Not yet,” Poe shook his head. “But I have one in my pocket. Why?” 

“When Yashi gets back…when we’ve made out plans…If there’s any chance of you getting real sleep…promise me you’ll try to sleep before you shoot yourself up with another stim.”

Poe started to turn away from his squadmate. “Muran—”

Muran grabbed his shoulder and gently but firmly turned him back. “No. Promise me.” Muran’s dark eyes met his and held them. “Promise me you’ll do this right.” 

Poe tried very hard to ignore the hand on his shoulder. “Fine,” he relented. “If I can, I’ll sleep before I take the stim. Happy?”

“Yes. Thank you,” Muran smiled and squeezed Poe’s shoulder before releasing him. 

“I hate this,” Poe muttered. “Waiting.” 

“I know,” Muran said. “As long as I’ve known you, you’ve been bad at standing still—you’d rather be in motion, racing towards the action. But Yashi will be back soon and then we can make a plan.”

“Not soon enough,” Poe muttered. 

“We’re gonna get her back, Poe. We’re not gonna leave Pava behind.”

Poe nodded. “I know.” 

“It’s gonna be ok,” Muran said softly. “ _She’s_ gonna be ok.” 

Poe nodded and looked away from Muran and back to the horizon. A silver glint appeared in the distance. 

“Is that him?” Poe asked, pointing. 

Muran followed where Poe was looking. “Yeah, I think so.”

“ _Finally!”_ Poe said, pushing away from the ship and walking forward to meet the Mandalorian.

“He’s still a ways away, Poe,” Muran called. “Patience.”

“I _am_ being patient. I’m just… _ready_ for when he gets here,” Poe said. 

Muran shook his head and looked up at the silver glint in the sky. Slowly, the glint became a person and the person gradually grew larger and larger as he came closer. Orange light from the sun glinted off the Beskar armor as Yashi came in for a landing.

“Tell me something good, Yashi,” Poe shouted as the Mandalorian touched down.

“They’re still here,” Yashi said as he pulled off his helmet. “Looks like they took some damage to their exhaust manifold. If they can’t vent their sub-light or hyperdrive engines, they’re not going anywhere.” 

“So they’re stuck,” Poe said, excitement starting to build in his chest.

“For now,” Yashi confirmed. 

“Then we should go now,” Poe said. “We can’t give them the chance to fix it and let them get away.”

“We can’t go tonight. Sun’s almost down and that’s a Devaronian ship: it’s basically a flying fortress. It’ll be locked down tight at night, _especially_ on a rock like this and none of the weapons we have will be able to breach their security features. Even if we had the weapons we’d need to breach, we wouldn’t be able to get in without literally blowing a hole in the thing and totally losing the element of surprise. And until the sensors send us some data, we don’t know what we’re walking into.”

“You’re a kriffing Mandalorian!” Poe shouted.

“I am. And I’m the best at what I do because I do my due diligence and make sure I know as much as I can before I go in, not because I go in half-cocked. Going in without more information is a gamble and I don’t gamble if I can avoid it,” Yashi said sharply.

“I’m with the Mandalorian, Poe,” Muran said evenly. “We’ll move in at first light. They’re not going anywhere tonight. And Pava’s tough—she’ll make it a few more hours.” 

“But what if they leave?” Poe demanded, putting words to his fear. 

“They won’t. They _can’t_ leave atmo. Their ship needs at least a few more hours of work and they can’t do that in the dark. Best guess, they’re stuck here until at least mid-morning, and that’s if he has a capable mechanic on board,” Yashi said confidently. “Longer if it’s just a bunch of inexperienced thugs doing the work.”

“He has Pava,” Poe countered. “She’s one of the most capable mechanics I know.”

“Poe, if he’s smart, he’s not gonna let her near anything like that. Think about it—it’d be too easy for her to sabotage his ship,” Muran calmly dismissed his concern. “And she would.”

Poe ground his teeth. “First light,” he agreed finally. 

“Yeah, Poe. First light,” Muran promised. “Yashi, you got those security sensors placed?”

“Four of them,” Yashi nodded. “Not great locations—there are gonna be a couple of blind spots, but best I could do with the ship’s location.”

“Alright. Let’s go get those sensor feeds hooked up to the ship’s computer, see what you’ve got for us.” 

“Sure,” Yashi nodded and followed Muran up the ramp. Poe stared at him until he disappeared from view before turning his attention back to the skyline, watching as the sun sank below the horizon.

Poe waited until the sun had vanished before he walked up the ramp and closed it behind him. He sat down heavily at the small table. Logic told him he should eat a ration bar to keep his energy up, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand back up and look through the cabinets. 

A groan escaped his lips and Poe put his head in his hands. As a pilot, he was a man of action, and being told to wait was killing him. Especially when Jess was in trouble. His imagination again began dragging every dark image it could find to the front of his mind, pulling him closer and closer to the despair he’d been fighting off since Jess had pulled that blaster on Gloarten nearly 48 hours ago. 

“You’re worried about her, aren’t you?” a voice asked, startling Poe.

“What?” Poe looked up quickly, interrupted from his dark musings. It was Yashi. “Did you find anything?”

Yashi shook his head. “Not yet. Muran had an idea and is doing something with the computer. He told me to get out of the way and leave the cockpit. He was nicer than that, but still, that was the sentiment.” 

“Huh,” Poe said, looking back at the table and running his hands through his hair.

“You’re worried about her,” Yashi said again.

“Of course I’m worried about her! Isn’t it obvious?” Poe said, irritation made his muscles tight and his jaw clench. “Aren’t you?” he asked accusatorily.

Yashi held up his hands placatingly.

“I’m sorry,” Poe sighed. “That wasn’t fair. I’m…just on edge.” 

“I understand. I’m worried about her, too,” Yashi said. “And I feel helpless waiting until sun-up. I know it’s the best plan, but—”

“But waiting sucks,” Poe finished deflatedly. “Feels like we’ve abandoned her to be so close and not doing anything yet.”

“Yeah.” Yashi’s lips quirked in a brief smile. “So how did you meet Pava?” 

“Oh, um…at the Academy.”

“Specific,” Yashi said dryly and leaned against the wall.

Poe shrugged.

Yashi narrowed his eyes at Poe. “You don’t like me, do you?”

“It doesn’t matter if I like you. You care about Pava, and you know who has her, so you’ll help me get her away from Gloarten.” 

“True. But I want to know why.”

“Why I don’t like you?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s not that I don’t like you. I don’t trust you.” 

“Why not?”

“Really?” Poe asked with a quirked eyebrow. “You make me nervous.” 

“Because I’m a Mandalorian? Because I’m a Bounty Hunter? Because I run with pirates? Beca—”

“Because of what you did to Pava.” 

Yashi stopped and frowned. “What did I do to Pava?”

“You know what you did.” 

“I assure you, I don’t.” 

“Whatever. You’ll figure it out,” Poe said. He put his head down on the table and looked away from the man.

“Poe…I have no idea what it is that you think I did to Pava. And maybe I am guilty of whatever you’re accusing me of, but I hope you can believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt her,” Yashi said softly. 

Poe looked up at him and sighed—he could tell from his expression that Yashi was telling the truth. “Want to join me?” he asked, motioning to the bench.

Yashi sat down and put his helmet on the table. “So…how did you meet her?”

“One of the admirals at the Academy wanted me to run a training SIM with her,” Poe said. “Pava was having some…difficulties working with the other cadets and this admiral wanted to test a theory before he cut her loose. We worked well together and it was determined that she was too advanced for the class she was in, so I started training her privately on an accelerated course,” Poe explained. “That’s why we were out here in the first place—I wanted to get her some time in a real cockpit. Never could have imagined this would happen.”

Yashi nodded slowly. “Gloarten, you mean.”

“All of it, but especially him.” Poe looked at Yashi. “How about you? She told me that you met at a spaceport on Raxus.”

Yashi sighed and leaned back. “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “That was a long time ago. I met her just after she got away from him. She was just a wisp of a thing back then—barely skin and bones. But she had a fire. I’m sure you’ve seen it.”

Poe laughed softly. “Fire is a good word for her.”

“She needed passage off of Raxus. I had half a mind to brush her off, but she was insistent. Can you imagine this scrawny little thing staring down a fully armored Mandalorian and the _Mandalorian_ backing down?” he chuckled and turned to consider Poe. “She ever give you that look like she might be able to turn you to stardust with her stare?”

“Yeah,” Poe nodded. “I know that look well.”

“So there I was, in a cantina at the Raxus spaceport, and this scrappy little nobody runs into me. As soon as my armor registered in her brain, she told me she needed my help,” he hesitated. “How much has she told you about…?”

“Not much. But I think I know enough,” Poe said. “Or I’ve been able to put together enough.”

“So you know she won her freedom?”

“Yeah. She told me that. She didn’t tell me how, but she told me that she won.”

“But you have a guess. I know you do. How do you think she did it?”

“Racing,” Poe said quickly. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Yashi nodded. “Her last race for him was on Raxus—one of the biggest races on the Rim. Huge winnings for the winner. Or, should I say, for the winner’s master?”

“What do you mean?”

“A good number of racers are slaves. Not all, not by a long shot, but still…a significant number. If a slave dies in a race…they’re replaceable, right?” Yashi said, disgust in his voice. “So some racers will put their slaves in the race and claim all of their winnings. Which is the deal that Gloarten made with Pava—if she won him enough credits, he’d free her. But the number was absurdly high. I still don’t know how she managed it.”

“How much?”

“Millions. I don’t remember exactly, but millions.”

“Kriff.”

“Did she tell you why she was on Raxus?”

“Pava’s always played things pretty close to the vest and when she’s been willing to talk, that didn’t come up.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Pava,” Yashi agreed. “She was on Raxus because he left her there. Left her there with nothing. She won the race—won the last of the credits for their deal. So he took her to get her mark filled in and the inhibitor chip removed and then he left her there.”

“What?” Poe demanded.

“She had nothing but the clothes on her back. When she found me, she wanted revenge. Told me who she was and what he’d done to her and what she wanted to do in return. As payment, she offered me any ship on the compound—except some Alderaanian racer—if I got her close enough to blow the whole thing up,” Yashi chuckled. “Don’t tell her this, but I would have done it for free. It’s always been hard for me to say no to her.”

“That’s not what she told me,” Poe said.

“What did she say?”

“She said that she needed a fast and discreet ride and you needed cheap labor.”

Yashi smirked. “She didn’t lie. She just…left a few bits out.”

“Just a few,” Poe sighed. He honestly couldn’t say he was surprised. For as long as he’d known her, Jess operated on a very strict ‘need-to-know’ basis and this was apparently something she didn’t think he needed to know. “So what happened from there?”

“She traded me labor for explosives,” Yashi said. Poe opened his mouth to protest, but Yashi kept going. “It wasn’t really labor, though, nothing exploitative: I just asked that she help me with ship maintenance. She’s the one who took it upon herself to overhaul my hyperdrive. So anyway, I took her to the Duluur sector and she guided me to the moon Gloarten’s compound was on. And then she took out his compound. Never seen anything like her cold rage as she destroyed everything there. After that, we traveled around together. We shared responsibility for the ship—I didn’t charge her for passage and she helped with repairs and flying. We’d get to some planet and she’d race, I’d do my work, then we’d move on. After a while, our relationship became something…more.”

Poe nodded. He didn’t want to know what ‘more’ entailed. “So how’d you hook up with the Hy’thor group?”

“Lompiach and his father, Ompiach, were taken by a rival gang. Some stupid territory dispute or something. I don’t remember. Sible knew someone who knew someone who knew me. She needed a pilot and some muscle to get into the rival gang’s compound and help break them out. Lucky for her, she found a Mandalorian and one of the best racers on the Rim.”

“Pava said they owe her their lives.”

“Specifically, Lompiach owes her his life. She took some insane risks to get him out of their brig.”

“Like what?”

“Like some piloting that I’ve never seen anyone else do. Things I thought were too dangerous to even try. At least, not anything I’d even consider trying with something as big as what she was flying. She killed the power on our descent to pass us off as a piece of space rubble—did a controlled freefall through atmo before kicking the engine back on at the last possible second to avoid a crash. Have you ever heard of that before? It was insane. Then on the ground—she knocked out the power grid at the compound for me to go in. I got pinned down and so she came in protected by some shoddy scraps of body armor she’d found, armed with an old blaster, and wearing a H.U.D.”

Poe laughed. “That sounds about right for Pava.”

“She was always a little more reckless than I wanted her to be,” Yashi said. “It was like she didn’t care if she lived or died. Like she thought that her life was worth giving up for someone else.”

“She risked her life to try to save mine when Gloarten captured us.”

“I’m not surprised,” Yashi said. “She did stupid shit like that all the time. It drove me crazy watching her risk her life like that over and over.” He paused. “I never told her that. I sometimes wonder if it would have made a difference if she knew.”

Poe furrowed his brow. “You worried about her?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“A little,” Poe admitted. 

“Why?”

“She told me that you brought out the worst in each other. That you made her callous, sloppy, and careless and she made you confrontational and ruthless.”

“She doesn’t mince words, does she?” Yashi sighed. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe we didn’t do each other any favors. But what she brought out of me, and what I brought out of her—it came with the best intentions.”

“Care to explain that?” Poe asked.

“I don’t know why she thinks I made her sloppy or careless. I didn’t see that—she was always an incredible pilot and fighter. Maybe I did make her worse and I just couldn’t see it. But…she’s not wrong that being with her may have made me more confrontational and ruthless. I hadn’t thought about it like that, but I can see why she’d say it. I didn’t like seeing her in danger and would take anyone who threatened her out. Violently.”

“So you’re trying to excuse your actions because you cared about her?”

“I don’t mean that to be an excuse—it’s just an explanation. A bad one, but it’s what I have. She’s right: we didn’t mix…not long term, at least. We were a…delayed chemical reaction,” Yashi chuckled. “But we didn’t bring out the bad parts of each other purposely. And we didn’t only bring out the worst in each other. At least…I think she brought out better parts of me.” 

“Did you love her?” Poe asked.

“Yes, I did. In some ways, I still do. It felt like it would kill me when she left,” Yashi told Poe. The Mandalorian scrutinized the pilot before asking, “Will you be honest with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Is she actually doing well?”

Poe’s lips quirked and he nodded. “Yeah. She’s doing really well.”

“Good,” Yashi sighed. “That’s good.” He considered Poe for a moment. “You know, in spite of everything that has ever happened to her, she’s always had this…audacity to hope that things would get better. She had no reason to believe that and still, no one could force that out of her,” Yashi said. “I sometimes think she doesn’t know that about herself, but I do. I know it’s there, that wild hope. It might be mixed in with all of the attitude and sarcasm and banter, but I see it. And I know you do, too. How could you not?”

“Yeah, I see it,” Poe nodded—he did know that about Jess.

“It seems like things finally got better for her—that her audacious hope paid off,” Yashi smiled before his face fell and he sighed. “And then this happened. I just hope she doesn’t lose her hope because of this.”

“I don’t think she will. She’s made of stronger stuff than that. Plus, she’d like being told she 'has the audacity' to do something,” Poe said with a hint of a smile.

“She would,” Yashi agreed with a laugh.

The two men sat quietly, each lost in his own thoughts.

“She’s better with you,” the Mandalorian said suddenly.

“What?” Poe asked.

“She’s better with you,” Yashi repeated. “She’s…more fully her, or something. I don’t know exactly what it is, but I do know that you make her better.”

“You don’t _make_ Pava do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

“Fair,” Yashi laughed. “But being with you—it’s like she wants to be better. She’s made herself better.”

“You saw us for one night in the middle of an emergency. I’m not sure you’re qualified to make that judgment call.”

“Considering how well I know Pava and that I know how little of herself she shares with anybody, I’d say I’m more qualified than just about anyone else,” Yashi said with a smile. “You’re good for her—she trusts you.”

Poe scoffed. “I don’t know about that. I’ve known her for two years and I’ve learned more about her in the last three days than I had in all the time before.”

“Do you know her first name?”

Poe bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah.”

“She trusts you. More than she ever trusted me.” Yashi hesitated, as if deciding if he wanted to say something.

“What?” Poe asked, prodding him along.

“Did she tell you why she left?” Yashi asked. “The Hy’thor Group, I mean. And me.”

“It, ah…it sounded like it was because of you,” Poe said. “She said that she felt like everything was tight and that she was always angry or agitated and on edge.” 

Yashi nodded. “I might have been part of it, but she hasn’t told you about the job?”

Poe shook his head. “Wait…is she gonna be upset with you telling me this?”

“It’s not just her story to tell,” Yashi said.

“Alright,” Poe agreed. “Go on.”

The Mandalorian sighed. “You have to understand, we hadn’t been with them long. A few jobs, maybe. And our loyalties were still being questioned—we still had to prove ourselves. This one day…we came across an old transport and, you know, did our thing: took out their shields, neutralized their weapons and comms, and then threatened them and extorted them for whatever goods they had. When we hit it, it just looked like a trading vessel…thought they’d have some goods for us to claim and sell. But…they didn’t have the kind of goods we were expecting.”

“Slaves.”

“Yeah,” Yashi confirmed. “Slaves. Pava was infuriated—she was ready to take the ship apart with her bare hands, but Ompiach—Lompiach’s father—cut a deal with them instead. Turned out that the slavers had been running some hyperspace lanes that weren’t mapped or monitored by the NRDF. Ompiach let them go with their cargo in exchange for the routes.”

“And that’s when she left,” Poe finished. 

Yashi shook his head. “No. She tried to stick around for a little while. Week or two, I think. She tried to pretend that what he had done didn’t bother her. But I know it did. The rest of the group…look, they weren’t trying to be insensitive or anything, just no one else knew about her past, but…I did. And I knew that what Ompiach did bothered her, and I still didn’t say or do anything about it. Then one morning, she was gone.” 

Poe felt a spark of annoyance at Yashi’s easy acceptance of Jess leaving. “Why didn’t you go after her?”

“What?”

“I can see you cared about her—still do, it seems. Why else would you be here? So I want to know: when she left—why didn’t you go after her?”

“Honestly? I thought she’d come back.”

“But she didn’t.”

“No, she didn’t,” Yashi agreed. “And by the time I realized she wasn’t coming back...her trail was cold.”

“You’re a Mandalorian and a Bounty Hunter,” Poe scoffed, “I thought cold trails were your people’s specialty.”

Yashi nodded. “True,” he sighed. “I think I was embarrassed. Ashamed, even.”

“For what?”

“That I knew something was wrong with her and didn’t do anything about it,” Yashi said. “That I didn’t say anything to Ompiach when we first caught the slavers. I was trying to be loyal to the group.”

“You should have been loyal to her,” Poe said, his voice harsher than he’d meant it to be, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Hurt crossed Yashi’s face, though he didn’t correct Poe. “That’s why you don’t trust me, isn’t it? Why you don’t like me. Because I didn’t look out for Pava.”

“You said you loved her, but you _left_ her—young and alone—to freefall without anyone to catch her. And you didn’t even look for her,” Poe said, his tone colored with anger. “You don’t even know the damage you did. It took me two years to build any kind of trust with her and I still don’t know half of her life.”

Yashi looked ashamed. “You’re right—I failed her. I want you to know, though, you’re wrong about part of that: I _did_ look for her.”

“You must not have looked very hard. The New Republic Security Force found her—more than once! And if an Admiral from the NRDF hadn’t also found her, she’d be in Megalox right now,” Poe said. He knew it was a dig, and he knew that Wedge Antilles wasn’t just any Admiral, but he didn’t tell Yashi that. He wanted his words to hurt: this man had abandoned Jess when she was young and vulnerable.

“That wouldn’t have happened if I was there,” Yashi said firmly.

“But you weren’t there. And it did,” Poe said levelly, anger simmering in his eyes.

“No, I wasn’t. And, listen, Poe, I know what you’re thinking—”

“I don’t think you do,” Poe cut him off. “She was seventeen and on her own. You left her out there, alone. And you were so concerned with your loyalty to a pirate group and your own embarrassment that you didn’t do anything to change that!”

“So what, are you saying that you would have gone after her?”

“Every time,” Poe said firmly. “Without question or hesitation. Every time.”

Yashi furrowed his brow. “I believe that you would,” he said softly.

The words hung between them, fragile and quiet.

Muran’s quiet arrival broke the moment. “You guys should come check this out.”

Poe and Yashi stood and followed Muran back to the cockpit.

“What do you have?” Poe asked.

“I used the sensors that Yashi set up to get a read of the ship,” Muran said, an incomplete 3D-model of the Devaronian vessel. “Yashi was right, the placement of the sensors gave us some blind spots, so it’s not perfect. But…if I look up Devaronian vessel blueprints, I can…make some guesses at a full image.” The missing portions of the ship filled in, giving them a complete rendering of the _Schrei_.

“That’s good work, Muran. Any chance we’re getting audio?” Poe asked.

“No,” Muran shook his head. “The hull is too thick for the sensors to pick up sound. But their shields are down, which means we _can_ get a heat reading. Adjusting to compensate for a variety of species and…” he pressed a few buttons and ten heat indicators appeared throughout the ship. “Sensors read ten adults. My guess is this one—” he pointed at a heat signature in the bottom middle of the ship, “is Pava. The location makes the most sense for a brig.”

“So we need to take out nine,” Yashi crossed his arms over his chest. “I like those odds.”

Muran glanced sideways at Poe and raised his eyebrows before he looked back to the model.

“I think our best option will be if you two go in on foot and wait for your opening. I’ll stay on the ship to be ready for a quick exit,” Muran said.

“Hit ‘em quick, get out fast,” Poe nodded.

“We wait until sunrise. The ramp will have to be lowered for them to go out and fix the exhaust manifold and once that ramp is down, we go in, quick and quiet. They won’t be expecting us and we’ll have the element of surprise on our side,” Yashi said. “You get to Pava and get her out. I’ll take out the thugs.”

“By yourself?” Poe asked.

“Sure,” Yashi’s lip twisted into a grin. “It’ll be fun.”

“I’ll drop you two in the settlement before sunrise. You can walk in from there."

"Can you ping her tags?" Poe asked. "Let her know we're coming?"

"Yeah. I'll ping them as soon as I drop you two. Once that's done, I’ll head to low orbit and hang as low as I can without getting noticed and wait for your signal. Then you two—”

“Go in, get Pava, raise hell,” Yashi said.

“What the Mandalorian said,” Poe agreed. “And then we call you for a lift.”

“Or if things go bad and you need air support,” Muran added.

“Right. And then we get out of here,” Poe said. “Leave this rock behind.”

“I like it. It’s loose—lots of room for improvisation,” Yashi said with a grin.

“Yashi,” Poe turned to look at the Mandalorian.

“Yeah?”

“When you go in,” Poe started, his tone harsh. “I want you to take them out with extreme prejudice.” His eyes flashed with ferocity. “Understood?”

Yashi gave him a dangerous smile. “Poe, it would be my genuine pleasure.”

“We should all try and get some sleep. We can’t afford any screw-ups tomorrow,” Muran said. “Yashi, pick a bunk room. Poe and I will take the other.”

The Mandalorian nodded and disappeared out of the cockpit.

Poe was about to follow when Muran stopped him.

“Hey,” he said, catching Poe’s wrist. “You’re gonna get some real sleep, right? You’re not gonna take another stim and try to stay up through the night, right?”

“You’re gonna be in the same room as me,” Poe pointed out.

“Poe,” Muran said wearily. “You know what I mean.” 

Poe sighed. “I don’t know if sleep will happen.” 

Muran stood up to face Poe, still holding his wrist. “You promised me. And we both know that the stim will have better effects if you’re starting from something rather than nothing.” 

“Muran, I can’t just—”

“At least try. Please.” Muran’s deep voice was quiet and sincere. His dark eyes met Poe’s and held his gaze until finally, Poe nodded. 

“Alright. I’ll try.” 

“Thank you,” Muran said with a smile. “I need you to take care of yourself, Boss. You’re no good to any of us if you don’t and I can’t be worrying about you.” 

“You worry about me?” Poe asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Of course I do,” Muran said softly. “Someone has to. Force knows you don’t worry about yourself.”

Poe didn’t comment on how Muran’s hand had slid from his wrist to his hand. Or how his firm but gentle grasp made him believe that this insane plan was actually possible. Or how Muran’s very presence helped Poe push back the despair he’d felt before. The words to express his gratitude for Muran and the relative peace that he had given him were too much…too big for Poe to find and give in return.

“Thank you,” Poe whispered. He managed to meet Muran’s eyes, hoping that those simple words could convey the sincerity of the sentiment as well as all that he was feeling. It wasn’t nearly enough, Poe thought, but it was all he could give right then. “Just…thank you.” 

Muran smiled and squeezed Poe’s hand gently. “Any time, Poe. Now go get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’re getting our friend back.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, those are 2 'Mandalorian' inspired lines and one direct steal from 'Hamilton'. 
> 
> They have a ship, they have a plan, they have a passible level of trust in each other. They're going to get their Jess back!
> 
> I really liked writing this interaction between Yashi and Poe--they both care about Jess, but almost different versions of her, and I wanted to give them a chance to see that for themselves. 
> 
> Also, is there such a thing as a sidequest slow burn? Cause that kinda feels like how I'm writing Poe and Muran's developing relationship. 
> 
> And remember when I said this would most likely be shorter than 'Martyr'? Yeah, that's looking like a lie. It'll likely be around the same length (word count at least, still probably fewer chapters).
> 
> As always, comments, kudos, and such give me such a boost. Thank you for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

Jess focused all of her energy on tapping her fingers in a repetitive pattern on the cot. 

_One, two, three, four, five. Five, four, three, two, one_. 

Over and over again.

It hurt to move her hands—but so did moving every other part of her body. And this at least gave her something to focus on—some illusion of control. 

The comedown from the drugs was disorienting. The brightness of the pain dulled at the same rate that the paralytic wore off and movement returned to her body, but the torture from the IT-O made her joints stiff and painful to move. Each movement sent a new bright spark of pain racing through her body, meaning that remaining still was the least painful thing to do.

A wave of nausea crashed over her. Jess stumbled off of her cot and to the privy semi-concealed behind a partial wall. She had nothing in her stomach and threw up only bile, gasping between heaves. Her muscles ached as they contracted as she retched and her knee screamed in pain from the pressure of putting any weight on it. 

Exhausted, Jess collapsed against the wall, panting. She tried to close her eyes and take deep breaths, but it wasn’t working. The air seemed to get caught in her chest on its way to her lungs and she could feel herself slipping closer and closer to panic. Tears ran down her face, mixing with the sweat and grime from the last four days. 

She could only remember one time in her life she had felt this tired, this hurt, this…hopeless. But even then, she hadn’t been entirely alone. Teela had been there to help her. 

But Teela wasn’t here now. 

_Thank the Universe,_ Jess thought. She had worked too hard to keep Teela as far away as possible from places like this. 

Control was slipping from her grasp, Jess could feel it. She bit her cheek hard enough to draw blood. She knew her psytech wouldn’t approve, but the sudden taste of iron was enough of a distraction that Jess was able to get control of her breathing and stave off a panic attack. It wasn’t gone forever, she knew from experience it would probably come back later and be much worse, but for now, she was back in control of her body. 

Jess crawled back across the room and carefully levered herself back onto the cot. The corner of the cell gave her a minor sense of security—no one could come at her from behind—and she leaned into it, more exhausted than she could ever remember being in her life. She wrapped her stiff arms around her torso and closed her eyes. 

Time passed strangely in the cell. From the time she closed her eyes to the time she opened her eyes could have been anything from five minutes to five hours. There was no way to mark the passage of time aside from her own physical condition, but even that was warped by exhaustion and the effects of the drugs. Jess slipped in and out of semi-consciousness, but never could fall all the way asleep.

“I don’t want to kill you.” Gloarten’s voice startled her. She hadn’t heard his heavy footsteps this time, and that was concerning. If she lost her sharpness, her awareness—she was finished. 

“Coulda fooled me,” Jess replied, focusing her eyes on the Devaronian. “You’ve been doing a pretty good job of trying to kill me.”

“I don’t want you dead. Just broken,” Gloarten leaned against the frame of the cell door. “But not _too_ broken. Because you were right about one thing.”

“And what was that?”

“I did miss your incessant talk. Your mouth. Our…how did you say it?...barbed exchanges. Even as a child, you had a sharper tongue than anyone else I knew. And you were smart. It’s not often that a slave can match wits with me, and yet you did.”

“I don’t think you’re giving your slaves enough credit. Or you're giving yourself too much. Probably both.”

Gloarten continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “And having someone with that much fire and intelligence under my control was intoxicating. I want that feeling back.”

Jess snorted. “That’s not enough reason for why you’re keeping me alive now.”

“No, you’re right. Now, I’m keeping you because when you break, you’ll race for me. I know it. And when you do, you’ll make me very wealthy.” 

“I told you…no way in hell will I race for you again.” 

“Then I’ll just have to keep hurting you.”

“Then I’ll just have to die,” Jess replied instantly. 

Gloarten sneered and opened the cell door. From his pocket, he pulled out an auto-injector pen.

“No,” Jess whispered before she could stop herself. She tried to move away from him, but she knew it was useless. There was nowhere for her to go.

“Good,” Gloarten smiled cruelly as he crossed the cell. “You’re afraid.”

“Fuck you.” 

The Devaronian pushed the pen against the side of Jess’s neck, administering the drug.

Jess winced as the needle broke her skin. “What is it this time?” she asked wearily.

“One you’ve had before. You’ll find out soon enough. Heavier dose this time. You’ve earned it,” he said with a condescending smile as he left her alone in the cell. 

Jess waited. Her limbs didn’t grow heavy and the pain didn’t increase, which left Jess with one option: the hallucinogenic. 

_‘Watch where you’re going!’_ a voice shouted. Jess looked over to see Yashi, helmet in hand, in a blurry cantina.

Raxus. Jess knew this place and this memory—this was when she’d first met Yashi. 

“Should have known you’d turn up eventually,” she said softly. Yashi was younger in her memory, still suave, charming, and mysterious, though. 

Yashi stood there, waiting like an actor for the next line or cue. 

Jess opened her mouth to respond, but her memory was blank. She knew this moment, she knew this conversation, but what she said next…

“I don’t remember what I said to you,” she said quietly. 

_‘What’s a kid like you doing here anyway?’_ Yashi asked, continuing on as if she’d said the right thing.

“Dying,” Jess responded. 

Yashi’s brow furrowed. _‘I’m Mandalorian, not New Republic. What do I care about slave trading?’_

Jess had forgotten about that comment. It hurt to know how true it had ended up being. 

“You don’t,” Jess said softly. “You made that clear.” 

Yashi smirked. _‘You’ll pay me? In what, sand?’_

Jess still couldn’t quite remember her half of the conversation. It was too fuzzy. She knew she’d offered him any of Gloarten’s racers that he wanted and had refused to break eye contact with him until he finally relented. 

“Why did you help me?” Jess asked.

 _‘What’s your name, kid?’_ Yashi asked with a grin. 

“Pava,” Jess said. “My name is Jessika Pava,” she said out loud. She hadn’t told Yashi that, but she needed to hear her own name. “Who the hell are you?”

_He laughed. ‘I’m Yashi. So, Pava, you any good with your hands?’_

That question she did remember her answer to. “I wasn’t that kind of slave.”

 _‘No. Not that,’_ Yashi said quickly. _‘I mean can you work on a ship? Have any mechanic experience? I’ll take you where you want to go if you help keep the ship maintained.’_

“I’m good,” Jess said to Yashi. 

Yashi looked her up and down and turned for the door. He took a few steps before he looked over his shoulder. _‘You coming?’_

The hallucination of Yashi walked through the cell bars and vanished and the cantina faded from view, leaving the barren cell behind. 

_‘Pfft. You went and got yourself mixed up with a Mandalorian?’_ the Bothan woman said, sitting on the edge of the cot. The space around her fuzzed between her living room and the cell.

“Teela,” Jess whispered. 

Jess had paid for Teela’s freedom and set her up with a life away from Sveen’s grasp. To her knowledge, Jess was pretty sure that Yashi had never known about the Bothan woman; or what Jess had been up to when she had ‘personal business to take care of’ and had disappeared with a shuttle for a few days. But when she left the Hy’thor Group and Yashi, she had told Teela all about him.

“Dumb, right?” Jess said quietly. 

_‘There are better men out there,’_ Teela agreed sagely. 

“He had a ship. I needed a ride.”

 _‘If that’s your baseline for a good relationship, we need to talk,’_ Teela scolded. 

“Yeah, cause I had such great examples,” Jess groaned. 

Teela looked sadly at Jess. _‘I want so much for you. So much more than you let yourself have.’_

“Worked out well for me, didn’t it?” Jess said quietly. That wasn’t what she’d said to Teela, but there wasn’t much a hallucination was going to do about it.

_‘You deserve so much more.’_

“Not so sure about that.” 

Teela’s response didn’t change. _‘You promise me: you’ll come back. This better not be the last time I see you.’_

“It wasn’t,” Jess said. “But the time after that was.” 

Less than a month had passed between Jess’s last visit to Teela and when she’d met Wedge Antilles. She hadn’t seen the Bothan woman since. 

“I’m sorry, Teela,” Jess said softly. 

Teela faded away, leaving Jess alone again. 

She tilted her head back against the wall and looked at the ceiling. Jess had been alone for most of her life, it was nothing new for her. Even when she’d been surrounded by people, she’d felt alone. But this ‘alone’ felt different. She’d started to like having people around. Had started to trust them. And so this alone was far worse than any she’d experienced before. 

Something inside of her felt like it was about to break. She felt like she was about to give up: to stop fighting.

By her best guess, Gloarten had captured her no more than three days ago and she felt like she was already shattered. It was like she was holding the pieces of herself together in some kind of mess that approximated the whole. She knew it was a vain attempt to not let Gloarten see the damage he’d done to her.

But she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do this alone anymore.

 _‘It’s ok,’_ a voice whispered. 

“No. Not you,” Jess shook her head and closed her eyes. “Not this memory.” 

_‘You’re going to be alone now,’_ the voice said. _‘And it’s not your fault. Do you understand me? This is not your fault. And I’m sorry. I never wanted to put so much on your shoulders so young.’_

“No,” Jess said more firmly, her eyes still closed. “I don’t want to remember this.”

 _‘It’ll be ok. I know this is hard. But you can do hard things.’_ The voice said again. Finally, Jess opened her eyes and looked at the hallucination. A dark-haired woman in brown traveling clothes stood by the cell door, her hands bound behind her. Tear tracks stained her familiar face, but her gaze was filled with fire and love, and her mouth was set with determination. The background didn’t change—the last time Jess had seen Asara Pava had been in a cell very much like this one. This was the last conversation they’d ever had. 

“No, Mom,” Jess choked down a sob. Tears ran down her cheeks. “It’s not ok. _I’m_ not ok. And I can’t do this.” 

_‘You are smart and kind and strong. And I believe in you,’_ Asara said, ignoring her daughter’s protests. _‘And I will always be with you—I will always be in your heart.’_

“I’m not strong enough for this, Mom,” Jess protested.

_‘You’re my brave girl, Jessie. I love you and I am so proud of you. And you will be ok.’_

Jess closed her eyes and waited for the hallucination of her mother to disappear. There wasn’t more to the conversation: right after that, her mom had been taken from the cell and sold to the highest bidder. And Jess had been sold soon after.

Since winning her freedom, Jess had looked for her family over the years. When she’d been traveling with Yashi and racing, she’d asked around, checked local slave auction listings, and kept an ear out for anything that sounded promising. She’d never found any leads worth following up on.

Her search had gotten easier when she’d joined the NRDF. It was why she spent so much time at the Return Project. Yes, she wanted to help reunite families who had faced the same terror and heartbreak hers had, but her extra volunteer hours weren’t purely altruistic. Because when she was there, she had unlimited access to their databanks. And when they weren’t busy, Jess could spend hours reading line by line through different slave ledgers, looking for any clue about what might have happened to her family or where they might be. 

She’d never told Poe about that. Never told him about what had actually happened to her parents or her sister. Or the countless hours in the cramped back office at the Return Project, looking for something to tell her she wasn’t alone in the vastness of the Universe. She hadn’t ever planned on telling him about it. 

Now, though, she wished she had. There was a lot she hadn’t told Poe before and that she wished she could tell him now. There were so many things that she had held close and hadn’t wanted to let him see. Things that she had been afraid that if he saw, like the mess of broken parts that she was, he’d hate them, and would leave. But in his last hours with her, he’d shown her that he wouldn’t run. And now Jess regretted every attempt she’d ever made to keep him away. She regretted every barbed comment and every wall she’d ever put up. Every wall that he’d figured out a way around or over or through. She realized that there hadn’t been a wall high enough, thick enough, or strong enough to keep Poe away. Because with Poe, the Universe hadn’t felt so vast. With Poe, she hadn’t felt so alone.

But now it was too late and she couldn’t ever tell him any of it. Kriff. She missed Poe.

The sound of something sliding across the floor brought Jess back to the present. She looked down to see half a ration bar and a partially full water packet next to her cot. By the cell door, she could see Mattis peaking around the corner.

“You shouldn’t give me your food, Mattis,” Jess said tiredly. “You need it more than me.” 

“I know you are lying. I know Master has not fed you since he captured you. You need food, too,” he said as he moved to sit cross-legged in front of her cell. 

Jess sighed and took a bite of the ration bar. It was flavorless and chalky while still having the consistency of paste, but it was more substance than she’d had in two days. “Are you ok?” she asked the boy.

“I am fine,” he said.

“What time is it?”

“Late. Everyone else has gone to sleep.” 

“So why are you still up?”

“It is the only time I feel safe.” 

Jess nodded slowly. She understood that. 

“How long have I been here?” she asked.

“Two days.”

 _Only two days?_ Jess had a hard time wrapping her mind around that.

“You look hurt,” Mattis said. 

“I am,” Jess agreed. 

“Will you be ok?”

“I dunno. I hope so.”

“I do not want you to die.” 

“I don’t really want to die, either,” Jess said quietly. “But even if I do, you hold onto those tags I gave you and if someone comes looking, they’ll find you. I promise.” 

“Do you think anyone is looking?” 

_No,_ Jess thought. But she didn’t share that with the kid. “Maybe,” she managed to say instead, even though she didn’t believe it. 

“If I get away…if you take me away…do you think I will be able to find my family?” Mattis asked.

“I hope so,” Jess said. The image of her mother was too fresh in her mind to make any promises to this kid. 

“Did you find yours?” Mattis asked hopefully. 

“No,” Jess shook her head. “But I keep looking.” She ate the rest of the ration bar and finished off the water packet. “Thank you for this,” she said.

“You are welcome,” Mattis said. “I should be thanking you. I know that you have drawn Master’s attention to yourself when he has been angry to save me from his punishments. You have been protecting me.”

“I’m an adult. You’re a kid. It’s what we’re supposed to do.” 

“No other adult has done that for me.” 

“You know shitty adults,” Jess said. She winced at her own swear. “Sorry for swearing.” 

Mattis giggled. “I have heard worse.” 

“I bet you have,” Jess sighed. She limped over to the recycler to get rid of the evidence of the rations. 

“I will bring you more rations if I can,” Mattis promised. 

“Don’t risk yourself, kid,” Jess said. “I’ll be ok.”

Mattis nodded and bit his lip, clearly wanting to say something else.

“What is it?” Jess asked as she carefully sat back down on the cot.

“I heard Master say that you are a pilot.”

“I am. Or, well, was.” 

“What do you fly?”

“Anything I can,” she said with a smile. “But with the NRDF, I flew an X-Wing.” 

“What is that like?” 

“What’s it like?” Jess gave a tired smile. “It’s incredible. It’s fast and responsive and exciting and dangerous and…it’s freedom,” she finished quietly. 

“I want to try that.” 

“Maybe you will,” Jess said. 

“Will the NRDF take slaves?” Mattis asked nervously. 

Jess shrugged. “They took me. Can’t imagine why they wouldn’t take you.” 

“Maybe if I go to the NRDF, you will teach me to fly,” Mattis said brightly, showing a flash of the personality that was hidden behind the layers of fear and sadness that was slavery.

“Who knows, kid,” Jess replied. She didn’t tell him how unlikely she thought it was that she would get out of here alive, or that if she didn’t get her knee fixed up soon, she’d probably never fly again. _Let him have his dreams of freedom and flight—he's already familiar with the harshness of the world, no need to add to that,_ she thought. “Wouldn’t that be something?” Jess added softly. 

“If I could, I would fly away from here,” Mattis said softly.

“Me, too, kid,” Jess whispered. “Me, too.” She cleared her throat. “Get some sleep, kid. Dream about flying.” 

Mattis nodded and started to walk away before he paused and turned back to her. “Jess…can I ask you one more question?” 

“Go for it.” 

“If I am ever free…if I look for and find my family…do you think that they will still want me?” Mattis asked, his voice small and worried.

“Without question,” Jess answered.

“Really?” 

“There isn’t a doubt in my mind that your family is looking for you even now,” Jess said confidently. 

Mattis gave her a small smile. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. Now go sleep,” Jess said with a smile. “I’ll still be here in the morning.” 

“Good night,” Mattis waved and silently disappeared from the hallway. 

Jess sighed and shifted on the cot. She doubted that she would get any real sleep, but she was so exhausted, it was possible. And she told herself that she had try to get some kind of rest, if for no reason other than to keep herself healthy enough to keep distracting Gloarten’s rage away from Mattis.

She closed her eyes and let herself doze off. 

* * *

It was still dark when Muran brought the _Rising Dawn_ down for a landing. 

Poe had, miraculously, gotten about five hours of mostly restful sleep. He still administered a stim, though. He wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. And he’d pocketed a second stim to give Jess if she needed it, which, all things considered, seemed likely.

“You ready?” Yashi asked. He already had his helmet on and a personal arsenal strapped to his body.

“Yeah,” Poe said. His own stash of weapons was minimal by comparison: a couple of blasters, a vibroblade, a multitool, and some charges, but it was enough. His job was to find Jess and get her out of the ship, Yashi was the one who was doing the heavy hitting. 

“Once I’m clear of the settlement, I’ll ping Pava’s tags. Hopefully, she still has them with her,” Muran said. 

Poe nodded tensely. 

“Hey—we’re gonna get her,” Muran said softly.

“I know,” Poe replied. “I’m just…”

“Worried. I know.” Muran grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “But she’s got the best thing going for her right now.”

“What’s that?”

“You.” 

Poe forced a grin and squeezed Muran’s hand back. “Thanks.”

Yashi cleared his throat. “We should go.” 

“Right,” Poe said, releasing Muran’s hand.

“I’ll be on comms,” Muran promised. “See you when you have her.” 

“May the Force be with you,” Poe said. Muran gave a sharp nod before he turned and walked back into the ship, closing the ramp behind him.

Poe and Yashi waited until the ship had taken off.

“Ready?” Poe asked.

Yashi turned on the flashlight on his helmet. “Let’s do this.” 

* * *

Jess had only been asleep for a few hours when a voice woke her. 

“Jess!” a voice whispered urgently. “Jess! Wake up!” 

“What?” Jess grumbled as she dragged herself back to consciousness. She turned her head towards the cell door. “Mattis? What is it?”

“They are glowing,” he whispered. 

“What’s glowing?” she asked groggily. The residual effects of the trifecta of drugs that Gloarten had given her were slowing her mind down. 

“These.” He held his hand out: her ID Tags were hanging from his grip, softly pulsing green. 

Jess froze: she knew what that green glow meant. It meant that someone from the NRDF was here and was tracking her ID Tags. It meant that Beebee-Ate’s message had gotten out. That Poe was right: someone came. 

“Muran,” Jess whispered. _There would be no living with Poe if he knew this,_ Jess thought. _Him and his crazy, irrational (and justified) faith in people._

“What did you say?”

“Never mind.”

“Why are they glowing?” Mattis asked.

“Someone’s coming,” Jess said with a grin.

“Who is coming?”

“The NRDF is coming,” Jess said. “Mattis, can you do something for me?”

“What?” the boy asked.

“I need something for my knee. An airsplint, a compression bandage, a length of cloth, anything that will help me stabilize it.”

“But if I steal medical supplies from Master—”

“It’s not gonna matter! The NRDF is here. They’re going to get us out of here,” Jess begged. “Please.” 

The boy looked like he was about to say ‘no’, but then he nodded and ran off down the hall. 

Jess sighed, hoping he’d come back. 

A few minutes later, Mattis quietly appeared in front of the cell door and rolled two compression bandages to Jess.

“These?” he asked hopefully. 

“Those are perfect, buddy. Now look, when the NRDF comes in, they’re gonna be looking for me and taking out anyone who moves. You need to hide. Stay small, stay still, stay out of the way. Do that until the blasters stop firing. I won’t let them leave without you. I promise.”

Mattis nodded. “Okay.”

“Hold onto those. When they find you, those’ll tell whoever it is that you know me,” Jess said, indicating to the tags. “Now go—hide.” 

The boy nodded again and ran off, leaving Jess alone again. But for the first time since having been captured by the lake, Jess felt what she thought might be hope. 

She pushed her leggings down and wrapped her knee tightly with the compression bandages. 

She’d told Poe: _‘No one gets two chances to get away from slavery.’_

And typically, that was true. 

But if the Universe had decided that she was the exception to that rule, she would be ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here they come! 
> 
> Thank for reading, commenting, or giving kudos!
> 
> Edited 1/10: I was rereading the comics tonight and realized that Jess's mom already has a name: Asara. It's mentioned in one pane on one page, so it was easy to miss. That being said, I want to be consistent with the Star Wars Universe as much as I can, so I've edited this chapter to reflect her correct name.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

Poe and Yashi moved quietly over the rocky terrain. The early morning silence was unnerving—they couldn’t hear any people, birds, insects, or other wildlife. It was just still. 

The sun was cresting the horizon when Yashi held out his hand, stopping Poe.

“There,” Yashi pointed ahead. “The _Schrei_ is just over that ridge.”

“Good,” Poe said. “You’re sure you can handle nine?”

“Easy,” Yashi chuckled. “Like I said…it’ll be fun. You don’t worry about that. You just get Pava.” 

They climbed to the highest vantage point on the ridge and examined the _Schrei_ below _._ Yashi took his rifle off his back and sighted the ramp.It was still locked up tight for the night.

“And now we wait,” Yashi said, adjusting his rifle.

“I hate waiting,” Poe muttered.

Yashi chuckled. “You wouldn’t be a very good bounty hunter. Waiting is half of the job.”

“That’s why I’m a pilot,” Poe replied. 

The sun crept higher in the sky and still, the ramp remained closed. 

“Why aren’t they moving yet?” Poe asked.

“Late night?” Yashi suggested. 

“Ibanjji is such a party planet,” Poe replied dryly.

Yashi chuckled. “Don’t I know it. We’ve been here for two years.”

“You’re really not going back to the gang?”

“No,” he shook his head. “They wouldn’t help Pava and they owe her. I’m done.” 

“Good for you,” Poe said. “What do—”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Yashi stopped him. “Ramp’s opening.” 

“Finally,” Poe said, shifting lower behind the rock and positioning himself to see the ship. 

Three crewmembers—a male human, a female human, and a Quarren—came down the ramp, all carrying tools and equipment to fix the ship. The man and the Quarren went straight to the right engine where the damaged exhaust manifold was, but the woman was distracted, looking towards the rock wall at the aft of the ship. She put her tools down and slowly walked towards it. 

“What does she…” Yashi whispered, pushing himself up slightly to get a better view. 

The man shouted something at the woman and motioned for her to come back to the ship. The woman shook her head and pointed directly at one of the sensors Yashi had planted. She pulled out her blaster and shot it, causing it to explode in a burst of sparks. 

“Kriff,” Poe hissed and pulled out his blaster. 

“Kriff is right. We’ve been made,” Yashi said and stood up. He fired his blaster rifle twice, taking out the Quarren and the woman. The man was halfway up the ramp before Poe’s shot hit him in the chest. The engines glowed and started warming up.

“Well, they know we’re here,” Poe said as they skidded down the rocky ridge. 

“You think?” Yashi said incredulously, pulling out his blaster and shooting at the Ishi Tib who’d appeared on the ramp of the ship. He pushed the dead human to the ground before he disappeared back onto the ship and closed the ramp. The whine of the engines grew louder and the ship lifted off the ground.

“Kriff,” Poe said again. He stumbled as he reached the bottom of the embankment and stared up at the now rapidly ascending ship. “Muran! They’re taking off!” he shouted into his comm. “Don’t let them get away!”

“On it,” Muran said, swooping overhead and pursuing the _Schrei_. 

“They didn’t complete their repairs on the manifold, and without them, they can’t risk a jump. They won’t get very far. Come on!” The Mandalorian said as he ran after the ship. Poe nodded and raced after him.

“I see them,” Muran reported over the comm. “I’ll take them down.” 

“Pava is still on board!” Poe said. “Disable, don’t destroy.” 

“Roger that. I’ll ground them,” Muran amended. “Firing half power.” 

* * *

Jess felt the ship shudder as it lifted off the ground. 

“No, no, no,” she whispered to herself. They couldn’t be taking off—not now when the NRDF was so close. 

The ship started to accelerate. _Heading for atmosphere,_ Jess thought. 

She forced herself off the cot and limped over to the cell door. It was a slow process: the chain anchoring her to the wall rattled as she dragged it across the floor and her wrapped knee still ached, but it was at least now able to support some of her weight. She pushed on the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Ugh!” she shouted, hitting her hands against the bars. “Come on!” 

She turned and looked around the cell. It was still miserably empty, except for something on the floor near the recycler. Jess limped closer to get a better look: it was the auto-injector pen Gloarten had used on her. She didn’t remember him throwing it in the recycler, but… _he must have missed_ , Jess realized. She grabbed the device and took it back to the cot.

Stiff fingers twisted the plastic pen until it snapped in half. Jess pulled out all of the inner pieces of the pen and selected the two thin steel pins that had been holding the drug vial in place. The pins were long and tapered, perfect to activate the manual override for the shackle around her ankle. She found the two holes on opposite sides of the cuff and carefully pushed the pins in until they completed the override circuit. With a soft beep, the cuff opened and released her. 

A sudden jerk to the left sent Jess crashing to the floor and the pieces of the pen scattering all over. The ship continued to move randomly: turning, diving, and waggling in unpredictable ways. Understanding and disbelief washed over her in equal measures.

 _‘It’s called jinking, Pava,’_ Poe’s voice said in her mind. _‘It makes it hard for an attacking ship to get a solid targeting lock on you. You’ve done it, even if you didn’t know that’s what it’s called.’_

“Are they seriously trying to out-jink an NRDF pilot in this thing?” Jess asked out loud as she was again thrown across the cell. She groaned when her knee collided with the privy wall. 

Just as Jess pulled herself back to her feet, a muffled explosion followed by a pronounced shudder reverberated through the ship. 

Jess froze. That was a hit. 

She waited a few seconds, but the ship didn’t explode around her. It was an expert shot, one that only a highly trained pilot could make. She smiled: they really were here—the NRDF had actually come.

The ship shuddered again and started a rapid descent. 

Jess frowned. “Right. We’re crashing,” she muttered to herself. She’d somehow forgotten that crashing was part of a ship being grounded. 

There was no restraint webbing in the cell aside from the chain anchored to the wall and that wasn’t going to help. She crawled under the cot and braced herself, ready for the impact. 

* * *

Poe watched as the right engine flared and smoked, forcing the large ship down in a controlled crash. Muran’s shot had been straight out of an NRDF textbook: it caused severe damage without destroying the ship. The _Schrei_ slid across the ground, carving a deep path through the rocky soil before it came to a stop near a canyon ledge. 

The two men ran towards the downed _Schrei,_ blasters drawn. Thick, acrid smoke poured out of the damaged engine, choking them as they approached.

“Think we should knock?” Poe asked sarcastically.

Yashi shook his head. “They’re coming,” he said, raising his rifle. “But they’re not your job. Don’t worry about them.” 

The ramp opened and two more members of the crew came down. Poe recognized the Klatooinian and the Weequay from before. 

“Go,” Yashi said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and pulling out a sidearm. “I’ve got this.”

Poe nodded and waited until Yashi engaged the two thugs before he darted onto the ship.

Alarms blared and warning lights flashed as Poe raced through corridor after corridor. Repair droids scurried back and forth, unable to determine the most pressing repair. Panels sparked and smoked, casting the entire ship in an eerie light. Steep staircases jammed into narrow hallways and shadowy alcoves served as markers for Poe as he followed the map he’d memorized into the bowels of the ship. He slid down the railing of the last staircase, finally reaching the lowest level of the _Schrei._

“Jess!” he called. There was no response. He kept going until he reached the cells. There were five of them, all empty and sterile except for the last one. The final cell had fresh blood on the floor and cot and the barred door was open. 

“Poe, I’m coming in,” Yashi said over the comm. 

“Yashi, she’s not here,” Poe shot back.

“What?” the Mandalorian demanded.

“She’s not here. I found the cell, but no Pava.” 

“Kriff,” Yashi muttered. “I’m on my way.” 

A scuffling sound from down the corridor drew his attention. Poe chewed his lip and considered for half a second before taking off after the sound. 

“I’m leaving the cells. Following a hunch,” Poe said on the comm.

“Poe, stay where you are! I don’t want to accidentally shoot you.” 

“I’m not letting him get away with her!” Poe replied. He rounded a corner just as a maintenance turbolift’s doors closed. “Kriff,” he hissed. 

“What?” 

“Turbolift,” Poe replied shortly. He yanked the cover panel off of an access tube and crawled inside. The access tube was narrow but direct and Poe raced up the ladder, kicking the panel open when he reached the top. He looked out: he was back on the main floor, near the ramp entrance. “I’m back on the main level,” Poe said tersely. 

“What are you doing?” Yashi asked. 

A shout from outside the ship drew his attention. 

Poe drew his blaster and moved towards the ramp. “My job.” 

* * *

Jess crawled out from under the cot. As far as crashes went, that wasn’t the worst one she’d been in. A few of her injuries had reopened and were bleeding onto the floor, but she could tell they weren’t too serious. What was more concerning was that she’d hit her head again. It didn’t feel too bad, but she’d already had a head injury, and this new one was causing the room to feel a little off-balance.

She lowered herself onto the cot and brought a hand up to her head. It came away bloody.

“Fantastic, new cut,” Jess muttered to herself. The NRDF had grounded the ship and she knew that standard procedure would be for them to clear the ship, starting at the helm and moving through the ship, level by level. She’d just have to wait until they found her. And after the last few days, she was willing to wait a few more minutes. 

Heavy boots thundered down the corridor. She recognized them—they weren’t from the NRDF.

“Noo,” Jess whispered, dropping her head lower. Not him. Not now. Not when escape was within reach.

Gloarten glared at her and looked at the chain on the floor. “Planning an escape?” 

Jess shrugged. “Not really. I’d just rather not be bound.”

“What did you do?” Gloarten demanded, hitting the cell bars with his fist.

“What could you possibly mean? I’ve been in here,” Jess said tiredly and gestured to the cell.

“You contacted the NRDF! How?” 

“No idea what you think I did. You know I have nothing on me.” She knew what she was going to say next was a bad idea, but it didn’t seem to matter anymore. “You’re the one who thought it was a good idea to capture two NRDF pilots with plans to enslave one and kill the other. This is all on you. You and your record of failure.” 

The Devaronian roared in rage and opened the cell door. He stormed across the small room and backhanded Jess, tearing the scab of her split lip open again. As Jess recovered, he grabbed her by her hair and yanked her to her feet. He turned for the door and pulled Jess along behind him.

Jess stumbled, trying to keep up. Her knee screamed in protest. 

Gloarten dragged her to a turbolift and pulled her inside, throwing her to the ground. The doors slid closed and he pushed a button before he turned to his captive. From his belt, he pulled a set of binders and cuffed Jess’s hands behind her back. Once she was bound, Gloarten tangled his hand in her hair and pulled her up onto her knees. Jess cried out: the pain was almost blinding. 

The Devaronian pulled her hair back until Jess was looking up at him and grinned down at her menacingly. He leaned down so his face was close to hers. “Finally, where you belong: on your knees before me. This is how you always should have been, my prize pilot.” 

Jess spat blood from her split lip into his face and grinned madly. “I don’t belong to you. Not anymore.” 

She watched as rage took over Gloarten’s features. “You will regret that,” he threatened as he wiped the blood off of his face. “You will _pay_ for that!” 

“You’ve lost,” Jess retorted. “You’re not getting out of here alive.” 

“Shut up,” he said, throwing her backward. Her head hit the wall of the turbo lift with a dull thud. Jess groaned as her vision swam and her stomach threatened to be sick. ”Neither are you.” 

When the doors opened, Gloarten grabbed Jess by her hair again and pulled her out of the lift and down the ramp. He pushed her to her knees on the rocky soil. Jess shouted as sparks of pain ricocheted from her knee and through her body. She swore she could feel it in her teeth. Gloarten grabbed her hair and pulled her to stand up tall on her knees. He pulled out a blaster and aimed it at her head.

Jess hissed in pain but didn’t move again. She was certain this would be her end: there wasn’t a way out that she could see. The NRDF might be here, but they wouldn’t be able to land and get off their ship before she was shot. Not when Gloarten stood in front of her, blaster pointed at her head. And he was too close to her for a ship to take a shot at him without also killing her. 

“What do you have to say now, Slave?” Gloarten hissed. “What sharp words do you have to save your life?”

“None,” Jess shook her head.

“None?” the Devaronian chuckled. “Well, that’s a first.”

“You’re really gonna kill me?” Jess asked, her voice tired.

“Yes,” Gloarten replied. “Out here in the open, where your precious little NRDF friends can see it happen from the air and do nothing to stop it.” 

Jess looked around, hoping for a miracle—hoping for a way out, but knowing there wasn’t one. Gloarten was right: neither of them were going to make it out alive. She squeezed her eyes closed and resigned herself to her fate. She had been so close. So close to being rescued. So close to getting out of here and going home. But now she knew that she wouldn’t get away—she was going to die here alone on this far away rock. She had lost, and it was only a small consolation that Gloarten had, too. The adrenaline that had been coursing through her body since she’d seen the green glow of her ID Tags faded. The aches and pains from being tortured came rushing back to fill the void left by the adrenaline and her head throbbed with her pulse. She couldn’t see another way around it: this was the end for her.

 _‘It’s ok,’_ a voice whispered in Jess’s head—it was her mother’s. _‘It’ll be ok. You’re my brave girl, Jessie. I love you and I am so proud of you. And you will be ok.’_

One final bit of fire roared in Jess’s heart. She used what remaining energy she had to force herself up and pressed her forehead against the blaster. If nothing else, she promised herself, her last act would be one of defiance. She kept her eyes on Gloarten’s, willing herself to stare at him until the very end. 

“Do it. I dare you,” she snarled.

Gloarten growled and shifted his grip on the blaster.

Jess steeled her nerves and maintained eye contact with the Devaronian. 

She didn’t even blink when she heard a blaster fire.

* * *

Poe crept to the open ramp and looked out onto the plateau. He felt his blood freeze in his veins when he saw Jess. She had been stripped of her flight suit and boots and had been made to kneel in front of Gloarten in just her compression leggings and grey shirt, both of which were torn and stained with blood. Her wrists were cuffed in binders behind her back and her head was bowed. She looked utterly defeated, beaten and bloody, with Gloarten holding a blaster to her head. Poe watched in horror as Jess raised her head to meet Gloarten’s gaze and pushed herself forward until the weapon was touching her forehead. From the distance he was at, Poe couldn’t hear what she said, but he saw her bare her teeth and could see Gloarten’s face contort in rage. 

“Poe! Where are you?” Yashi’s voice crackled over the comms. “Have you found Pava?”

“Poe, he has her outside!” Muran shouted. 

He ignored them both.

Poe strode down the ramp and leveled his blaster at Gloarten, firing a single shot that hit the Devaronian in the shoulder and sent him stumbling backward. The blaster fell out of Gloarten’s hand and, after a second’s hesitation, Jess scrambled across the ground for it. She awkwardly picked it up as the Devaronian got back to his feet and charged towards her. Jess turned and fired the blaster from behind her back.

The blast hit Gloarten in the chest, killing him instantly. 

Everything went still. Poe stopped in his tracks, his eyes locked on Jess. The blaster dropped heavily from Jess's fingers. She stared at the dead body in front of her before she looked over at Poe, dazed. As soon as Jess saw him, Poe could see the confusion set in.

“Poe?” she murmured, disbelief in her voice.

The sound of his name was enough to kick Poe back into action. He ran towards Jess and slid to a stop in front of her. “I’m here,” he said, dropping to his knees.

“You’re dead.” Jess shook her head. “You were shot down. I saw him kill you.”

“No, no, I’m not dead,” he reached out and touched her cheek. Jess leaned into his touch. “I’m here, Jess. I’m here and I’m fine. I’m fine.” 

“Poe…” Jess struggled to control her voice, unable to form sentences or even words.

“I’m here, what is it? What do you need?” 

“ _Please_ …” her voice broke, “get me out,” she finally managed, her voice choked with panic. “Please, Poe. Get me out, get me out, get me out!” She repeated it like a mantra as she struggled against the binders. Blood seeped from underneath the binders where the skin on her wrists had been rubbed raw and ripped broken from her struggle. Tears ran down her face in her panic to be released.

“Shh, Jess. I’m here. I’ve got you.” Poe shifted behind Jess and started working to release her from the binders. He’d never seen her like this before—had never heard panic like this in her voice. “It’s ok. Jess, It’ll be ok. You are gonna be ok,” he soothed as he worked. 

As soon as her wrists were released, Jess threw her arms around Poe and buried her face in his neck. Poe held her tightly, thanking the Force and every deity he could think of that he hadn’t been too late. 

“Poe, report,” Muran’s voice came over the comm.

Poe moved one hand to his belt and pulled out the commlink, bringing it over Jess's shoulder and to his mouth. “I have her. She’s alive,” he breathed. 

“Poe,” Yashi said from the top of the ramp. Poe looked up as Yashi tossed a black metal ball towards him. It landed with a loud ‘clink’ a few yards away, but Poe could tell what it was: and IT-O Interrogation Droid. This one had a neat blaster shot hole through it, frying every circuit. 

“Kriff,” Poe whispered. He held Jess as close as he could. “Oh, Jess,” he whispered into her tangled hair. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Jess.” 

Jess didn’t say anything. She didn’t move, didn’t cry. She barely breathed as she clung to Poe. 

But she was alive.

Poe gently brushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m here now. I’ve got you,” he murmured over and over. “You’re safe now. You’re ok.”

Jess mumbled something into his neck.

“What?”

Jess pulled back incrementally so her voice could be heard.

“You came back for me.” Her voice was rough from her captivity but held a note of what Poe could only describe as surprise or wonder.

“Of course I did,” Poe whispered, giving her a gentle squeeze. “I told you I would. I promised that I would come. That I would get you back and bring you home.” 

Jess sighed and relaxed again against Poe. 

“You didn’t believe that, did you?” Poe asked quietly. "You didn't believe I would come back." 

Jess shook her head nearly imperceptibly. 

Poe kissed the top of her head, still unwilling to let her go. “I will always come back for you. I will always find you. I’m not going to leave you behind. You’re not alone in this, Jess. Not anymore. I’m here.” 

Jess nodded but didn’t say anything else. She just clung tightly to Poe.

Poe didn’t know what else he could say, so he stayed still, holding Jess close, reveling in the fact that she was still alive and (mostly) whole.

“Ship’s clear,” Yashi said, coming down the ramp. “No survivors.”

Jess pulled back and looked up with wild eyes. “Poe, there was a boy. You have to get him!” she said. “I told him to hide until the blaster fire stopped. He’s small, probably hidden in some cabinet or smuggler's hold. Find him! You have to. Please! I promised I wouldn’t leave him here. I promised. I promised Mattis. He has my tags! You can use them to track his location on the ship.”

Poe turned to look at Yashi. “You hear that?”

“I’ll find him,” the Mandalorian said and disappeared back into the ship. 

“You heard that, right? Yashi’s looking for him. He'll find the boy. Who better than a Mandalorian to find him?”

Jess nodded. 

Poe watched as Jess pulled the fragments of herself back together, hiding all of the vulnerability she’d shown him seconds before. 

“How are we getting out of here?” she asked.

Poe lifted his commlink to his mouth. “Muran, you read?”

“About time I heard from you, Boss,” Muran responded. “Are we ready for pickup?”

“Yeah,” Poe looked around. “Um…what’s gonna work best for you? We’re gonna blow this ship and I don’t want to risk the _Rising Dawn_.”

“Roger that. It’s a bit far, but the best landing site I’ve found is about 2 klicks south of you. When the _Schrei_ went down, it destabilized a lot of the ground closer to you and it doesn't look like it'll be able to support another ship. Is that alright?”

“We’ll make it work. We’ll see you there.”

“I’ll be waiting.” 

Jess grabbed the commlink from Poe’s hand. “Hey Muran.” 

“Hey Pava,” Muran greeted. “Good to hear your voice.”

“Thanks for coming,” Jess said. 

“The Empire couldn’t have kept me away,” Muran replied. Poe thought he could hear a smile in his voice. “See you soon.”

Jess handed the commlink back to Poe. 

“Thanks,” Poe said and slipped the commlink back into the pouch on his belt. He looked Jess over. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Jess raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t make me make it an order, Jess,” Poe said quietly. “I know you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Jess answered automatically. 

“Literally nothing about you says ‘fine’ right now,” Poe argued. “Come on, Jess. Give me a sit-rep.” 

Jess bit her lip. “I guess I’m a little banged up.” 

Poe chuckled. “That’s putting it very mildly. I’m sure that everything hurts right now, so how about you give me the basics. What’s hurt the worst?” 

“Ribs, head, knee,” she listed. She shifted her weight and gasped. “Knee. Definitely knee.”

Poe shifted Jess off her knees and turned her so that her back was leaning against his chest. 

“Kriff, Jess,” Poe said, looking at her knee.

“That bad?” Jess tried to laugh.

“You know it is,” Poe said. He hesitated. “I saw the IT-O unit.” 

Jess’s face twisted. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yashi destroyed it.” 

“Good,” Jess said quietly. She frowned. “Why is Yashi here anyway?”

“I needed to be sure I got you out. Having a Mandalorian with me seemed like a good plan." 

Jess nodded slowly. It was obvious to Poe that she didn’t really understand what was happening. She was in rough shape—more than she had been willing to tell him.

“Ok, Jess, stay with me. Tell me: have you gotten any sleep at all? Food? Water? Anything?”

“Not really any sleep. Half a ration bar and part of a water packet…maybe last night?” Jess furrowed her brow in concentration. “I don’t know. Time’s all…fuzzy.” 

“That’s ok,” Poe said. “Don’t worry about it. That’s all you’ve had since you were captured?”

Jess nodded.

“Ok,” Poe said. “Ok. And the droid—”

“I don’t—”

“Did it drug you?” 

“Yeah,” Jess nodded.

Poe winced. “How long ago?”

“No idea. Yesterday? I think?” 

Poe bit his lip. “I’m gonna give you a stim, ok?” he said, pulling the ejector pen out of his pocket.

Jess flinched away from the needle and shook her head. “Please...no," she pleaded quietly.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, but I think it’s the only way I’m gonna get you to the ship,” Poe explained. “You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. I promise: this is just a stim. If anything, it’ll make you feel better.” 

Jess inhaled sharply before she nodded and looked away. Poe took the lid off the injector pen and pressed it into Jess’s hip. 

“You ok?” Poe asked.

Jess nodded. “I can feel it.”

“And?”

“Feels alright,” Jess said. “It’s helping.” 

“Good,” Poe said. “We’re almost home, J. Just gotta hang on for a little while longer.”

“I’ll be ok,” Jess said. “Promise.”

Poe opened his mouth to say…something. He wasn’t sure what. Before he could, though, heavy boots on the ramp drew their attention.

“I found him,” Yashi said as he walked down the ramp, carrying the unconscious boy.

“What’s wrong with him? What happened?” Jess asked. 

“Not sure. He was unconscious when I found him,” Yashi said, shifting Mattis’s weight in his arms. “Probably got knocked out by the crash.” 

“Muran landed the ship about two klicks south of here,” Poe said, helping Jess to her feet. “How’s the knee?” 

“I can make it,” Jess said. Poe could tell she wasn’t putting her full weight on it and wrapped an arm around Jess’s waist. “Thanks,” she said softly and put her arm around his shoulders. 

“Charges are set,” Yashi said. “I’ll blow them when we’re a safe distance away.” He stepped closer to Jess and looked her up and down. A gloved hand reached out and gently touched her chin and moved her head back and forth. He looked towards the dead Devaronian and then looked back at Jess. “You ok?”

“Relatively,” Jess responded. 

“You’re lying.”

“I’m better than I was last night,” Jess said. “So like I said: relatively.”

Yashi nodded and pulled a blaster from his belt. “Just in case,” he said, offering it to Jess. She took it and held it in her free hand. 

“Let’s move,” Poe said. 

Their progress down the canyon ledge was slow but steady. Jess could feel the stim working, everything felt measurably better. Not good, not even ok, but better than it had. Her head was no longer pounding and she could even put some more weight on her knee. 

When they were about three hundred meters from the _Schrei,_ Yashi stopped and pulled out a remote detonator. He held it out to Jess. 

“Wanna do the honors?” He asked.

Jess grabbed the remote and slammed her thumb down on the button. In the distance, a large explosion billowed into the sky with fiery light and dark smoke. 

“I put a charge on Gloarten,” Yashi said quietly. “He’s dust now, Pava. You did that.”

“Good,” Jess said darkly, handing the remote back to Yashi. “That’s good.” 

They turned around and continued south. 

“How’s the knee?” Poe asked.

“Tolerable,” Jess said shortly. 

“Don’t try to do too much on it unless you have to,” Poe warned her. “You don’t want to injure it more.”

“It’s already pretty fucked,” Jess said. 

“They’ll get you all patched up at the Fleet Hospital. You’ll see. That knee will be good as new.” 

“Shh,” Yashi stopped them. “Do you hear that?”

Poe and Jess stood still, listening. 

“No?” Jess said after a moment.

“I just hear…birds,” Poe said and realized what Yashi was getting at. “Are those…?”

“Estaries,” Yashi confirmed. “Which means—”

“There’s a varn den nearby,” Poe finished. “Damn it.” 

Yashi looked around slowly. “They’re stalking us.” 

“Excuse me, they’re what?” Poe asked. 

“There are four of them and they’re stalking us,” Yashi repeated. “We’re near a den and the adult varns want to know if we’re a risk to their cubs, so they're watching. We need to keep moving. Slow and steady. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they won’t attack.” 

“How likely is that?” Poe asked. 

Yashi didn’t answer. “Our blasters are useless against them,” he reminded Poe. 

“Didn’t forget that fun fact,” Poe muttered. Useless or not, he still loosened his blaster in its holster as they continued down the canyon ledge. 

Poe kept glancing at the rocky ridge to their left. Every once in a while, he thought he saw movement, but when he’d turn, he couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary. 

After ten tense minutes passed, they could see the _Rising Dawn_ , waiting for them in the distance. Poe felt Jess sigh with relief. 

“We’re almost ther—” Poe was cut off by something heavy landing on his back. He let go of Jess as he fell to the ground and rolled over to fight off whatever had attacked him.

“Varns!” Yashi shouted and fired his blaster at the massive beast on top of Poe. Three more growled from their perches on the rocks. “They’re defending their den. We’ve gotta get out of here!”

The varn pinned Poe down as it clawed at him, leaving deep scratches on his face and arms before it finally retreated, scared away by Yashi’s blaster fire.

“Run!” Yashi shouted. Jess took off, running as best she could on her injured leg. 

“I thought blasters weren’t effective against them,” Poe said as he scrambled back to his feet and caught up to Yashi. “Why are you firing on them?”

“The varns don’t know it won’t hurt them,” Yashi replied and fired again at the varns. “Hopefully it’ll take a little while for them to figure that out.”

Poe drew his blaster and fired back at the varns, scaring them back up the ridge only for them to jump back down seconds later.

They raced across the rocky landscape to the ship, firing their blasters over their shoulders as they went. 

Yashi reached the ship first and looked back at Jess and Poe. 

“Keep going!” Poe yelled at the Mandalorian. “Get on board!” 

Yashi ran up the ramp, holding Mattis in one arm and firing his blaster with the other hand. 

“Poe, Pava, move it!” the Mandalorian shouted before he disappeared into the ship.

They were twenty meters from the ramp when Jess’s knee gave out and she fell to the ground with a shout of pain. Poe reached the ramp and turned around to see Jess struggling to get back on her feet. 

“Pava, come on!” Poe shouted from the ramp. “You can do this.” 

Jess set her jaw and pushed herself back up. She limped towards the ship, but before she could reach the ramp, the cliff crumbled, and the ship started to fall, leaving Jess stranded on the rocky ledge. She stumbled backward onto more stable ground, looking between the falling ship and the incoming varns. 

Poe slid up the ramp and into the main hold of the ship, crashing into Yashi. Gear fell out of storage lockers and slid across the floor.

“Kriff,” Yashi hissed, holding the unconscious boy protectively. 

“Muran!” Poe yelled as he scrambled back to the ramp. “Pava’s not on board!”

“Kriff. Hang on!” Muran called back. He regained control of the ship and brought it back up to hover near the edge of the collapsed plateau. “The ground’s not stable enough for me to put her back down. This is as close as I can get!” 

Poe grabbed a bundle of rope and tied a loop around his waist. He anchored the other end to a steel joint and ran down to the end of the extended ramp. “Jess—Muran can’t put the ship down!” He called. “The ground’s too unsteady. You’ll have to jump.” 

Jess looked at the incoming varns and then back at Poe.

“Just go!” she said. “Get out of here.” 

“No way. I’m not leaving you.” 

“Poe, go! Save yourself.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Poe shouted. “You told me to leave you before and all that made me do was survive a crash and fight my way back to find you. What makes you think I’d ever even _consider_ leaving you now?”

“I’m too hurt—I can’t make this jump,” she gestured at her knee.

“Jess, I’ve got you,” Poe said, holding Jess’s gaze. “I’m going to catch you. I won’t let you fall.”

Jess hesitated, looking between the varns and the ship once more. 

“You can trust me,” Poe said softly.

Jess held Poe’s gaze before she nodded. She took a few steps backward before she ran forward toward the edge of the cliff and jumped.

Poe reached out and wrapped his arms around Jess’s torso and pulled her in close to his body. He fell backward onto the ramp, landing hard on his back and bringing Jess down to land on top of him. Yashi put the unconscious boy down and ran down to help pull Jess and Poe into the ship.

“Muran! Get us out of here!” Poe shouted once the ramp was closed.

“You got Pava?” Muran’s voice came from the cockpit.

“Yes, she’s here! Now let’s go!” Poe shouted again. Seconds later, Poe felt a slight vibration as the thrusters cut off and the sublight engines engaged, lifting them out of the atmosphere and into space.

“Bunk room?” Yashi asked, indicating to the unconscious child he was holding. 

“Yeah,” Poe nodded. Yashi disappeared into the room and reemerged moments later without Mattis. He rushed past Poe and Jess to the cockpit.

Poe felt another slight shutter as the _Rising Dawn_ slipped into hyperspace. Only then did he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. 

They were safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok my lovely readers, you can relax now: Gloarten is dead and Jess is safe with her boys. I hope that lived up to your expectations! It was fun to write.
> 
> I got some feedback on a previous story that I should try to not switch character perspectives in a chapter without making a clear distinction that it's happening, so I've been trying to do that in this story. This particular chapter was a challenge because I wanted to have both perspectives, but didn't want to do two chapters. Did it make sense? Did it work? Let me know what you think. 
> 
> Also, I think I've broken the rest of the story up into the chapters I want to use, so it looks like this will be 17 chapters plus an Epilogue. Why not say 18 chapters? Because the Epilogue feels like it's an additional ending, not a chapter. I can't explain it, but that's what it's gonna be. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments, kudos, and more adored!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

Poe looked at Jess, who, despite her injured knee, was still standing in the middle of the cabin, holding tightly to his hand with one hand and clenching and unclenching her other hand into a fist. 

With his free hand, Poe untied the rope anchoring him to the ship before he turned to Jess.

“I’ll be right back, ok?” he told her. “I’m gonna go check in with Muran, but I’m not leaving you.”

Jess didn’t respond, but she didn’t let go, either. She just stood there: staring straight ahead and clutching his hand. It was like she didn’t even see him in front of her. Poe hated leaving her like this, but after the tumble the ship had taken, he knew he needed to get a sit-rep from Muran to make sure they were good to get home.

“Jess, did you hear me?” he repeated.

Hearing her name seemed to snap her out of whatever daze she’d been in. “What? Oh, no. Sorry. What did you say?” 

“I’m going to go check in with Muran. I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure. That’s…that’s fine,” Jess said unconvincingly.

“Here,” Poe said and slipped out of his jacket and wrapped it around Jess’s shoulders. She moved her death grip from his hand to the zipper, holding the jacket tightly around her body. “I’ll be right back. Promise.” He gently squeezed Jess’s shoulder before he made his way to the cockpit.

“Hey,” Poe greeted as he stepped through the doorway.

“How’s Pava?” Yashi asked from the copilot’s seat.

“She’s ok,” Poe answered. “All good up here?”

Muran didn’t turn around, instead keeping his eyes on the instrument panels. “Yeah, we’re good. Yashi says we’re taking him to his ship before we head back to the Hosnian system?” he asked.

“That was the deal, yeah,” Poe said. “Muran, will you join me for a second?”

“Of course,” Muran replied and stood. “You’re good in here?” he asked the Mandalorian.

“I won’t try to steal your ship, if that’s what you’re asking,” Yashi replied.

Muran rolled his eyes. “Not what I was asking.”

“Muran,” Poe said insistently.

“Coming,” Muran said and followed Poe out of the cockpit, closing the door behind him.

“Here.” Poe indicated to a small alcove in the hall. Muran stood quietly, waiting while Poe paced, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Everything alright?” Muran asked eventually.

“Fine,” Poe said quickly. Too quickly, he realized. He was still pacing. “I came to see if the ship was ok after that cliff collapsed out from under us.”

“The ship’s fine, Poe,” Muran said patiently. “How about you? What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Poe stopped pacing and turned to face the other pilot. “Jess is still in the main hold and…I wanted to talk to you. Alone,” he said with a sigh. Every bit of Poe felt frayed—the last 48 hours had been stressful in a way he hadn’t experienced in years—not since Kijimi. “This is all a lot and I just…I need a moment,” he admitted quietly. “Just a moment to catch my breath.” 

“I can give you that,” Muran said gently and put his hands on Poe’s shoulders.

Poe felt a burst of gratefulness for the man. Before Muran was assigned to Rapier Squadron, Poe had only known him peripherally. His impression was that the younger pilot was smart, quiet, and kind. A good kid. It didn’t take long for Poe to learn that his newest recruit was, in addition to being an incredible pilot, funny and clever with his own sharp wit. Muran was steady, confident, unruffled. Competent in every way. 

Most notably, Muran’s presence balanced Poe out in a way that no other person ever had. Poe was known for his brilliant strategic mind, but when it wasn’t focused on a mission or flying, the noise in his head could be almost overwhelming. Muran was one of the only people who Poe had found that was able to cut through all of the noise and offer him quiet. If Poe was chaos, Muran was peace. And for all of Poe’s restlessness and stubbornness, Muran’s polite nature and groundedness helped him find an equilibrium. It seemed unlikely that Antilles and Statura would know the effect that Muran would have on Poe when they assigned him to Rapier Squadron, but Poe couldn’t help but be thankful that they had made that call.

Poe bit his lip. He hadn’t let himself think of Muran like that before, but he knew that he’d known about Muran’s effect on him for a long time. He closed his eyes and sighed, leaning his head forward. Muran leaned his head forward, too, and pressed his forehead to Poe’s, grounding Poe and giving him time to gather himself again and to just be still.

A few minutes passed before Muran brought his hand up and ghosted his fingers over the scratches on Poe’s cheek. “What are these from?”

“Varns,” Poe said tiredly.

“Do I want to know?” Muran asked, dropping his hands to his sides.

“No,” Poe chuckled darkly and straightened up, pulling his head away from Muran’s. “No, you do not.” He sighed. “Terrible creatures.”

“So what are we doing with our passenger?” Muran asked. He crossed his arms over his chest and jerked his head back towards the cockpit.

“We take him to his ship.”

“He’s a bounty hunter,” Muran said with a raised eyebrow.

“Who helped us get Jess. And like it or not, bounty hunters are used by the New Republic just as often as by some crime boss on the rim. And this one at least has redeeming qualities. So we take him to the Mandalore sector. He said he’ll give you the coordinates.”

“Whatever you say, Boss,” Muran nodded. He tilted his head, considering Poe. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok. I’ve been better, but I’ve been worse, too. I’m ok,” Poe said, trying to convince himself of it. If Muran noticed how disjointed Poe thought the words _felt,_ he didn’t say anything. Poe was extremely grateful that Muran was flying this ship and not one of the X-Wings: his level demeanor and soothing presence helped Poe find something close to centered.

“How’s Pava? For real this time.”

“Alive.” Poe leaned sideways against the wall. “Somehow.” He added, almost to himself.

“She gonna be ok?” Muran held Poe’s gaze, compelling him to be honest.

“Yeah…” he started what he planned on being a confident lie, but it caught in his throat. “I mean, maybe? I don’t know. I hope so,” he admitted.

“If that’s your answer about Pava, I’m going to ask again: are _you_ ok?” Muran repeated.

Poe tilted his head to lean it against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment before looking back at his friend. “I’m fine. Well, physically, I’m fine. Exhausted, but no new injuries. Mentally and emotionally…” he sighed. “This is a mess. She’s running on a stim and adrenaline and not much else. I think she was certain she was going to die. And I don’t blame her for thinking that way. We were almost too late. It was terrifying. And she thought I was dead, so I don’t even know how she’s handling _that_ right now. And I’m angry—no, that’s not even a big enough word for what I’m feeling. I’m furious. How could someone do this to her? To anyone?” Poe breathed deeply through his nose to calm himself before he continued. “And I’m scared. I’m scared I’m gonna do more harm than good trying to help her.”

“There’s something else,” Muran said. “What is it?”

Poe sighed before he whispered, “Even if she hadn’t thought I was dead, she didn’t believe that I would actually come back for her. That I would find her.”

Muran furrowed his brow. “Why not?”

“Because no one has come back for her before,” Poe said. “No one looked for her before. She thought the NRDF would leave her there. That _I_ would leave her there.”

Muran didn’t ask any questions or offer him any false platitudes. “Where is she now?” he asked eventually.

“In the main hold. I need to go get her cleaned up. She doesn’t seem to be able to focus on anything long enough to do it herself,” Poe groaned and stretched. “She took a pretty bad beating and I want to check her out, but I wanted to make sure you’re all good up here before I disappeared. I don’t know how long it’ll take.”

Muran gave a quick smile. “We’re all good. You take all the time you need.”

“Thanks, Muran.” Poe started to head back towards Jess when he felt Muran grab his hand and turn him back around. 

“You’re a good man, Poe Dameron. And she’ll be ok,” Muran said as he interlaced their fingers. He lifted Poe’s hand high enough for him to press a kiss to the back of it. “With you in her corner, she’ll be ok.”

Poe stared at where his hand and Muran’s hand met. Muran had been so natural about it—as if their hands belonged together. And it felt good. Felt _right_ , even. Finally, he looked up to meet Muran’s eyes.

“Thank you for coming,” he whispered.

“Anytime,” Muran squeezed his hand. “Every time. Whenever and wherever you want me to be with you.”

Poe gave Muran a lopsided grin. “I definitely want to know more about that,” he said, his voice low. “But right now I have a friend who needs my help. To be continued?” he asked hopefully.

“To me continued,” Muran agreed, pressing another quick kiss to the back of Poe’s hand. “There is some spare clothing in one of the lockers in the hold, as well as ration bars and water. Near the medkits. I tried to bring whatever I thought you might need, please ask if you’re looking for something else.”

“You’re amazing,” Poe said and squeezed Muran’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Muran smiled before releasing Poe’s hand and entering the cockpit.

Poe watched Muran return to his seat. He took a steadying breath, turned, and went back to Jess.

When Poe returned to the hold, he immediately knew something was wrong. Jess was pacing incessantly across the cabin; limping heavily on her right leg. Her knee was moving stiffly and her hands were shaking uncontrollably. Her eyes were moving wildly around the hold as if looking for the next threat.

“Jess?” he asked tentatively.

Her eyes flew over to where he was, panic being quickly replaced by something more neutral when she recognized him. It still wasn’t a relaxed look, but at least she no longer looked like she was ready to fight for her life. “Yeah? Yeah. I’m fine, I’m good. I’m fine,” she said quickly. But she wouldn’t stop moving.

“You’re shaking,” Poe said softly.

“He’s here, right? The boy. I promised him I’d bring him If I got away. His name is Mattis. He’s 9 and he says he doesn’t remember where he’s from. But he’s here?” Jess asked, her eyes again darting around the room.

“Yeah, he’s here. He’s unconscious in the bunk room,” Poe said calmly. He furrowed his brow. “Jess, are you sure you’re ok? You saw Yashi bring him on board.”

Jess continued as if she hadn’t even heard him speak. “He said that there are 10 other slaves back at the compound. And he said that Gloarten uses drugs on all of them. He used one on me, too. I don’t know what it was, but I saw hallucinations of people I know. Or knew. I dunno, doesn’t matter. But you need to get the inhibitor chip out of him or it’ll kill him. It’s usually at the base of the skull, but I mean, it could be anywhere along his spine. If you can’t find it, he needs to be in a Faraday cage of some kind to keep any signal from Gloarten from reaching it and killing him before we get back to Hosnain Prime,” Jess spoke rapidly and disjointedly; like she had to get all of the information she knew out of her mind before it could overwhelm and kill her.

Poe frowned. “Jess, Gloarten’s dead. You killed him.”

Jess kept talking, ignoring Poe. “The Return Project can help find the chip when you get him back to Republic City. And his tattoo needs to be taken care of. Maybe they can remove it, too. He’s so young and—"

“Slow down, Jess, it’s ok,” Poe said as he crossed the cabin and took her hand.

It was the wrong thing to do. As soon as he touched Jess, she flinched back and retreated until her back was against a wall. She tried to take a deep breath, but it seemed to get caught in her throat. Panic and fear overtook her face.

“I can’t breathe,” she gasped as she sunk to the ground, tears springing to her eyes. “I can’t breathe,” she repeated. Her shaking grew worse.

“Kriff,” Poe whispered, unsure of what to do. “Muran! I need help!” he shouted.

Two sets of heavy footsteps came from the cockpit as Muran and Yashi ran back to them. Muran pushed past the Mandalorian to get to Poe and Jess.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I don’t know. She freaked out when I touched her and now she’s saying she can’t breathe,” Poe said. “Do you think it could be a reaction from the stim mixing with whatever was used on her? She said she was drugged.”

“It might be, but I doubt it. I would have expected something like this to have happened closer to when you gave her the stim if it was drug-related.” Muran looked to the corner where Jess had slid to the floor. Her good knee was drawn up to her chest while the injured one laid awkwardly in front of her. She was breathing too quickly, but it seemed like oxygen wasn’t making it to her lungs.

“What’s happening to her?” Yashi demanded.

“I’m pretty sure she’s having a panic attack,” Muran said as he strode past Poe towards Jess. He turned and looked back at the other two men in the hold. “Yashi, go back to the cockpit. Keep us steady. She doesn’t need any more of an audience. And Poe, find something to cover her with.”

The Mandalorian nodded and disappeared back to the cockpit while Poe started searching the storage lockers for some kind of blanket, leaving Muran alone with Jess.

“Don’t touch her!” Poe warned from across the hold.

“Jess?” Muran said softly as he knelt in front of her. “Hey, Jess, it’s me, Muran. You gotta breathe.”

“I—can’t—” Jess gasped.

“Yes. Yes, you can. Your brain isn’t sure what to do with all the adrenaline rushing through it right now and whatever happened to you down there set off a panic response. You _can_ breathe. Try this with me. We’re gonna breathe in for four…then hold for seven…then out for eight. Try to do that with me?”

Jess nodded.

“Alright, great. Breathe in…two…three…four. And hold…two…three…four…five…six…seven. And now exhale…two…three…four…five…six…seven…eight. Good, that was so good, Jess. Let’s do that again.” Muran coached gently. He repeated the practice with her until her breathing started to even out.

“How’s she doing?” Poe asked.

“We’re working on it,” Muran replied shortly. “You got that blanket?”

“Still looking.”

Muran looked back at Jess. “Jess, can I touch you? Can I hold your hands?”

Jess gave a weak nod and offered her shaking hands to him.

Muran took her hands in his and held them gently, but firmly. “You’re doing so great, Jess. Ok, we’re gonna get you a little more grounded, alright? Tell me five things you can see.”

Jess blinked owlishly a few times before meeting Muran’s gaze. “I see…I see Poe…and I see the table…I see your ID Tags…I see the panel for the ramp…and I see the mud from our boots on the floor.”

“Alright, Jess. You’re doing great. Now tell me four things you can feel.”

Jess closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. “I feel your pulse…I feel the artificial gravity…I feel Poe’s jacket on my shoulders…and I feel the floor of the ship.”

“That’s good, Jess. So good. Tell me three things you can hear.”

“I can hear the life support systems, I can hear the hyperspace engine, and I can hear your voice,” she said, her voice more steady than it had been before.

“Alright. Now tell me two things you can smell.”

“Ozone. NRDF Laundry Detergent.”

Poe couldn’t help but grin at that. The NRDF’s Laundry Services did have a distinct scent. It wasn’t bad, it was even considered pleasant by most standards, it was just highly identifiable.

Muran also grinned at the comment. “Great. Tell me one thing you can taste, Jess.”

“Recycled air,” she said and opened her eyes to meet Muran’s gaze. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Of course,” Muran said with a smile. He bit his lip as if to stop himself from saying something else and nodded instead. “Can we get you into a bunk?” he asked.

Jess nodded. Muran stepped back and offered Jess a hand up. Jess took it and attempted to pull herself onto her feet. As soon as she was up, though, her leg gave out from under her and she fell back to the floor.

“Shit,” Muran said, jumping forward to catch her before she could land on her leg and injure it further. He eased her back to the ground and inspected her knee. Even through the two compression bandages, it was visibly swollen and hot to the touch. “How the hell did you run on this?” Muran asked incredulously.

“I dunno. I guess abject terror and adrenaline mixed with a stim makes all sorts of things possible,” Jess responded groggily. She hissed as Muran touched her knee. “Kriff, it fucking hurts.”

“We’ll get you taken care of,” Poe said, rejoining Jess and Muran. “Muran, here’s that blanket you asked for.”

“Great. Give it to her when she’s lying down.”

“You said you needed it now!”

“I needed you out of the way. Your hovering was stressing me out. Now, will you help me lift her and carry her to a bunk?”

The two men carefully lifted their injured friend and carried her into the bunkroom.

Jess reached up and brushed her fingertips along Poe’s jawline. “I thought you died,” she whispered, her eyes locked on Poe.

“No chance,” Poe said as he and Muran placed her on the bunk. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead before he straightened up and moved for the door.

Jess’s hand shot out and grabbed his sleeve. He looked back to see the terror still in her eyes.

“Poe! Please…don’t leave,” Jess said.

“I’m not leaving you. I’m just gonna grab the medkit, alright? I’ll be right back,” Poe soothed.

Jess nodded slowly and released his sleeve.

“I’ll be right back. I promise,” Poe repeated and followed Muran back to the hold.

“Thank you,” Poe said to Muran once they were out of the bunk room. “I had no idea what to do.” He gave a cynical laugh and ran a hand over his face. “I still have no idea what to do. Just…thank you.”

“Of course. My dad used to have panic attacks after the war,” Muran told him. “Mom showed me what to do in case she wasn’t home when he had one.”

“I’m sorry,” Poe said, not totally sure what he was apologizing for, but it felt like what he should say.

“War leaves scars,” Muran said, “and we help the people we love to live with them.” 

Poe nodded. He knew from his own parents that what Muran said was true.

“I’ll be in the cockpit if you need me,” Muran said with a squeeze of Poe’s hand. He smiled and left Poe alone in the hold.

Poe grabbed a few ration bars, a water packet, one of the medkits, and Kalonia’s specialty bag from the storage lockers before returning to the bunk room.

“Alright, Jess, I’ve got some rations for you and a medkit. Plus a bag with a lot of extras straight from Kalonia and Antilles, so we’re gonna get you all fixed up, yeah?” Poe said.

Jess nodded but didn’t really respond.

“What is it?”

“Before you do any of that…can…can I take a shower?” Jess asked quietly.

Poe hesitated. He didn’t love the idea of leaving Jess in a room alone. “I dunno, Jess. You can’t stand on that knee and—”

“ _Please_ ,” Jess asked emphatically. “I want to wash Ibanjji off of me. I’ll wear a brace, I’ll sit in a chair, I’ll do whatever you want. Just…please.”

Poe’s stomach clenched at her plea. “Yeah, Jess,” Poe nodded. “We’ll figure something out. You just wait here, I’ll…I’ll find something. I’ll make it work.”

Ultimately, Poe found a steel stool under a bench that would work as a shower chair and an airsplint in Kalonia’s bag that could brace Jess’s knee. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work. He brought all of the things Jess would need into the ‘fresher before he helped her limp in and sit on the counter.

“Here’s my offer: you eat a ration bar and drink half of a water packet before you get in the shower. Then, you sit on the stool, you wear an airsplint, and you keep the door cracked while you’re in the shower. I won’t be right outside the door, I won’t invade your privacy, but if you need something, I want to be able to hear you call for it. Deal?” Poe offered, holding out a ration bar.

Jess nodded and took the ration bar. She ripped the packaging off and began to nibble on a corner of it.

“Alright,” Poe said. “The stool is already in the stall and here’s the airsplint. Do you need any help?” he asked.

Jess shook her head.

“That’s fine. Right there,” Poe indicated to the pile of folded fabric sitting next to Jess, “are some clean clothes for you to change into after your shower. And I overrode the water rations, so you can take as long as you need.”

“Thanks,” Jess said quietly between bites of her ration bar.

“Always,” Poe promised. “Let me know when you’re done and we'll get you patched up, yeah? I’ll be outside if you need me.”

Jess didn’t respond as Poe left the room. He left the door cracked and listened as Jess turned on the water and shuffled her way across the room and into the shower stall.

Poe sat at the table, suddenly unable to do anything to help. He’d had a mission—a purpose—since he’d been put in that blasted A-Wing and now…now he just had to be still.

He looked down at his shirt. It was dirty and ripped from the varn’s claws and was stained with both his and Jess’s blood. Absently, he thought he should get bacta gel on the scratches.

Being still was one thing that drove Poe mad. Being still meant he had time to think and right now, the last thing he wanted to do was think. Because thinking meant acknowledging the hate, anger, and fear he was feeling.

He hated that Jess had more or less stopped responding to him. He hated seeing her quiet and passive—it wasn’t who she was. She was fire and independence and defiance against all authority. The person he’d just left in the fresher showed none of that and almost felt like a stranger.

Poe was angry that he hadn’t been able to get to Jess faster. It was illogical, he knew. But he couldn’t help it. In his mind, he’d failed her. And he was angry that she’d been captured and hurt by a former master. He hated what had happened to her as a child and hated that it had come back to haunt her now. He hated that for all the good the New Republic did, they still fell short. They still didn’t see the enemy in front of them.

And he was afraid. He was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to help Jess—that he couldn’t give her what she needed from him. And he was plagued by the fear that she would be changed by this: that all of the progress she’d made would go away and she’d close him out again.

He dropped his head in his hands and tried to push all of his negative thoughts away. Jess couldn’t know what he was feeling right now. The things she needed that he knew he could give her were comfort and friendship and compassion, not anger and hatred and fear. And he owed her at least that much.

“Poe?” Jess called. “I’m done.”

Poe all but jumped to his feet. He grabbed the medical supplies from the bunk room and quickly walked to the refresher. Stopping outside the cracked door, he knocked. “Hey, Jess. It’s me,” he said softly. “Can I come in?”

She didn’t say anything, but the door opened wider for him.

“Hey,” Poe said as he stepped into the fresher. “Let’s see wha—" his voice caught in his throat. Showered and wearing the loose-fitting pants and sleeveless shirt that Muran had provided, Poe could see Jess’s injuries in stark relief against her fair skin. Deep purple and blue bruises and scabbed over abrasions and lacerations told a story of violence that Poe didn’t want to know.

Jess had wrapped Poe's jacket around her shoulders like armor to protect herself from the world. It reminded Poe how young she truly was. At twenty-one and barely 169 centimeters, Jess was not what most people would call tall or even particularly adult-looking—she still looked like a teenager in a lot of ways. But she had a presence that felt larger than life—like she was older, experienced, and competent in everything she did. It was a presence that demanded recognition, if not respect. Now, though…now she looked and felt smaller than Poe had ever seen her look before.

Poe cleared his throat. “How about we get you patched up?”

Again, Jess didn’t respond. She let Poe help her up onto the counter and watched disinterestedly as he sorted through the medkit, eventually pulling out some bacta cream and sterile cloths.

“I’m gonna need you to take off the jacket, Jess. Just for a little while,” Poe said as he slid the jacket off of her shoulders. She didn’t struggle or try to stop him. He gently laid the jacket on her lap. “You can hold onto it for now, ok?” he said. Jess’s hands immediately wrapped tightly around the leather. Poe carefully cleaned the wounds on Jess’s face, arms, and hands. He knew nothing he could do would replace a bacta immersion on Hosnian Prime, but he also wasn’t going to leave Jess without any treatment. As gently as he could, Poe dabbed at the cut on her forehead and her split lip. Kalonia had sent a bacta-infused balm that could be applied to bruised skin. Poe applied it liberally to Jess. Aside from that, though, not much could be done about her black eye and other bruises, at least not while on the ship. He frowned at her red and irritated cheek.

“What happened here?” he asked softly, running his fingers over the chapped skin. Jess shook her head. Poe didn’t press—if she wanted to tell him, she would. He continued to treat the abrasions, murmuring assurances to Jess the whole time. Jess remained catatonic, not once responding to Poe’s ministrations or words.

“Will you hold your shirt up so I can treat your ribs?” Poe asked. Jess nodded and held her shirt up with one hand, still clinging to Poe’s jacket with the other. Poe winced. All of the skin Poe could see was mottled with blue and purple bruises. Along her ribcage, darker bruises indicated where the cracked bones were. Poe gently applied the balm and wrapped Jess’s ribs with a large bandage. He had Jess turn so he could treat the bruises and abrasions on her back.

“You can put your shirt down,” he told Jess. As she lowered her shirt, Poe noticed that she was holding two fingers at a strange angle. He gently took her hand and felt along her injured fingers.

“Broken?” he asked.

Jess shook her head. “Jammed.”

After such a long period of silence from her, Poe was surprised she’d spoken to him. “I’ll tape them. Just to give them some extra stability,” he said and grabbed the tape from the kit.

When he was done with her hand, he sighed. He had finished with everything he could to avoid her knee. He knew that any treatment he did would be painful for her, but he at least wanted to get eyes on it before they got back to Hosnian Prime. 

“Can I push your pants up to check your legs and knee?” he asked.

Jess gave a hint of a nod. Poe pushed the left pant leg up first, applying the bacta balm to any skin he could reach. When he was done with her left leg, he moved to her right. Jess hissed as he pulled the pant leg up over her knee. Poe cringed in sympathy.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered. When he looked down, he felt sick. Her knee was twice the size it should be. Bruises ranging from black and blue to purple and red and even some sickly green ones colored her skin, leaving no part of her knee its natural color. From her knee, the bruises extended in colored streaks in both directions.

“Kriff, Jess,” Poe gasped. As gently as he could, he applied the bacta balm. A sharp intake of breath made him look up at Jess's face: she had her eyes closed and her jaw clenched as she struggled to control her breathing.

“Hurry,” Jess whispered through gritted teeth.

“I’m almost done,” he promised. Once the balm was applied, Poe wrapped the knee in a compression bandage and then put on an airsplint to give the joint some stability. “There we go,” he soothed. “Done with your knee.”

Jess nodded, but she didn’t open her eyes.

“Just a few more minutes, Jess, and I’ll be done. Promise.”

As Poe finished up, he noticed that Jess was starting to fall asleep, but she kept forcing herself to sit back up and stay awake.

“Alright. I’m done. Let’s get you on a bed. Yeah? You look exhausted.” Poe tucked the bacta balm in his pocket before he helped Jess down from the counter and back into the bunkroom. She gingerly laid down and Poe draped his jacket over her. “You sleep. I’ll be back soon.”

“How are you not dead? How did you survive?” Jess asked, her voice smaller than Poe had ever heard it before. “I saw them shoot you down.”

“It’s me,” Poe tried to joke, but the sharp intake of breath from Jess told him it was not appreciated. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. “I had a feeling he might try to pull something like that, so as soon as I was in the ship, I put out a call to Rapier Squadron. Then, I figured out how to eject and survive the fall without any gear. I waited until I saw the missile on my sensors and ejected just before impact. I got pretty lucky and was able to eject above that lake we were at a couple of days ago. I camped out in one of the caves you found until the next day when Muran arrived with the _Rising Dawn_. He had already dropped Kun and Arana at the X-Wings and they’re flying back to Hosnian Prime now. And Muran is, obviously, piloting this ship. Anyway, once Muran arrived, we figured out a plan to get you out, went and picked up Yashi, destroyed a ship, and now we’re here.”

“Why did you come back for me?”

Poe was shocked by her question. “Jess…why wouldn’t I come back for you?”

“I told you not to. It was too risky,” Jess scolded.

“So was offering yourself to save me.”

Jess scoffed and rolled to face away from Poe. “No,” she sighed. “No. That wasn’t a risk. That was a calculated decision. You’re worth ten of me. It was an easy choice.”

Poe shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. “Don’t listen to those voices in your head. Listen to me: you are priceless to me. You are worth every risk.”

“That’s a nice sentiment. It’s not true, but it’s nice,” Jess said quietly.

“Jess…”

“Poe, I’ve known for a long time that my life is worth the price for another’s, but not the cost of another’s. You shouldn’t have come back. It was too dangerous.”

Anger flared in Poe’s chest. Not towards Jess, but at every person or being who had ever made Jess feel like she wasn’t worth it. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. Don’t talk like that ever again.”

Jess rolled back over and raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Why not?” 

“Because I don’t believe that.”

“Just because you don’t believe it doesn’t mean it isn’t true,” Jess replied, her temper rising. “Don’t make this something more than it is.”

“And what is it exactly, Jess? What is this?”

“I’m just telling you the truth. It’s that you’re…kriff, you’re _Poe Dameron_ , ok? Beloved child of war heroes, poster boy of the NRDF, and all-around great guy with a perfect life. You have a family, good friends, a career, and…and how can someone like me even begin to compare in value to someone like you?” Jess asked. 

“Jess—”

“No,” Jess cut him off. “Just…don’t. I’m not going to do this. Not right now.” Jess pushed herself to the edge of the bunk and shakily stood, reaching for the pile of supplies Poe had dumped on the other bed. 

“Lie back down,” Poe ordered. “What do you need? I’ll get it for you.” 

“No,” Jess said in a combative tone. She held tightly to the upper bunk. “I don’t need you to. I’ll get it myself.” 

Poe was baffled by Jess’s anger. He hated fighting with Jess. As a rule, they _didn’t_ fight with each other—it made his shoulders tight and the back of his neck itch, and she’d said before that it made her jaw clench and her whole body feel overheated. And after years of his youth misspent in anger, Poe hated being angry, too, but especially when he was angry at Jess. There was no challenge in it for him: they’d never been rivals or enemies or targets for each other, so there was nothing—no upper hand—to gain by fighting with her. They argued, but their actual _real_ fights were few and far between. And those fights only happened if they really had to.

“Can we back up here? I don’t get what’s happening. What did I miss? Did I do something? Why are we fighting?” he asked disbelievingly. “I just saved your life! Why are you angry at me?”

“And I thank you for saving my life, but you shouldn’t have risked yours to do it!” Poe could hear the exasperation in Jess’s voice.

“What are you trying to prove here, Jess?” Poe asked. “What do you want me to say?” 

“I don’t know what I want you to say!” Jess shouted and let go of the bunk to step towards Poe. As soon as she wasn’t stabilized by the bunk anymore, her knee gave out and she collapsed to the floor. 

Poe moved to help her up. “Jess, let me—" 

“I don’t want your kriffing help!” Jess growled and batted away his hands. She pushed herself up off the floor and onto the lower bunk. Poe raised his hands placatingly and backed away.

The room was still and quiet and tense. Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke.

Finally, Poe broke the silence. “What can I do, Jess?” Poe asked quietly.

“Nothing,” she huffed. She sat on the edge of the bunk, hunched over and staring at her hands. “No. That’s a lie. I want you to tell me: why did you come back? The truth! Because there’s nothing here _worth_ coming back for!” she said, gesturing to herself.

Poe felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. “Is that really what you think?” he asked quietly. 

Jess took a few deep breaths and glared at the floor before she looked up and met Poe’s gaze. The intensity of her stare felt like it went straight through Poe.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to look at yourself and only see a mess of broken parts?” she asked in a low voice. “Because Poe, that’s what I see _every time_ that I look in a mirror _._ I see every single thing that has happened to me and every bit of damage I’ve caused. I see every failure, every flaw, every shortcoming, and inadequacy—every kriffing thing that makes me aware that I am not worth the risks you took. Because how can I possibly measure up to everyone else around me? Especially when I’m someplace like the NRDF?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Jess? You more than pass muster.”

Jess smiled ruefully and shook her head. “No, I pretend—I pretend I’m good enough to be there. I pretend I belong, but…I don’t,” she sighed. “You know I don’t have a family or a home to go to. I don’t have anyone that will miss me or a place that I belong. But at least I have a place to _be_ with the NRDF, even if I don’t deserve to be there. I don’t get close to people because what if they saw the fraud that I am? What if everyone knew that I don’t—that I _can’t_ measure up? Would they still want me there? I don’t think they would. So I stand away from the crowd and push away anyone who gets too close…because I would rather have a place to be and be alone than be alone with no place to be.” Jess closed her eyes. “And even though I don’t belong…I’m still the right person to be in the NRDF. I can fly into battle without regret or reservation. I can make the calls no one else can make. I can make sure everyone else gets to go home. I can make sure _you_ go home, Poe.” 

The weight of Jess’s words hit Poe like a speeder, crushing his lungs. “Jess…” Poe said softly, his heart breaking for his friend. “You’re not cannon fodder. You are so much more than that.”

Jess laid down and turned to face the wall, putting her back to Poe. “Please…just leave,” she said quietly. 

Poe didn’t know what to say. “Jess…” he stopped. His mind was racing. There was so much he wanted to say, so many things she should know, and so many of her statements that he wanted to deny. But the words wouldn’t come. The assurances he wanted to offer her were choking him, unable to be said. They were too big to promise without the right words and every sentence he formed in his mind felt cheap and hollow.

He cleared his throat. “Damnit Jess, I want to tell you how good you are, how you’re not a fraud, how you measure up, and so much more, but…I don’t have the words and you don’t want to hear them right now anyway. So Jess, if you remember nothing else that I say today, remember this: _you_ matter to me. And because of that, I will _always_ come for you. I will _always_ support you. You _belong_ where ever I am. I’ll make sure of it. I am _Always. For. You.”_

He stared at his friend’s back. She didn’t respond to his voice and showed no indication that she wanted to keep talking.

“And I’ll prove it to you.” He dimmed the lights and stepped out of the bunk room.

Poe dropped down onto the padded bench in the main hold. He put his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands, rubbing at his eyes. He had no idea how he and Jess had gotten into a fight, and even less of an idea with how to handle what Jess had just told him about how she saw herself.

Poe had known for a long time that Jess had self-worth issues, but this was far more—far deeper—than he’d ever expected. Part of him was pretty sure that Jess wouldn’t remember most of their conversation. She was tired and drugged and in pain. And if she did remember, she’d probably blow it off as drug-induced despair. 

And usually, Poe would agree and let it go, but not this time. Not with Jess. One thing Poe had learned when he was with the Kijimi Spice Runners was that drugs don’t create dark thoughts, they just take away the padding that makes those thoughts palatable to the rest of the galaxy. But Poe knew that he wouldn’t leave Jess alone with that darkness.

He sighed. He knew he was in no shape to figure out what to say or do with Jess. The adrenaline from before had faded, making Poe keenly aware of exactly how exhausted he was. Every muscle ached in a way Poe didn’t even know was possible. Distractedly, he pulled the bacta balm from his pocket and applied it to the varn scratches. He put the lid back on the jar and slipped it into his pocket and laid his head back down on the table. Before he knew it, his eyes had slipped closed and he was fast asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo. Long chapter. But there wasn't a place to split it, so there's extra angst in this update. 
> 
> Yeah...so we're not quite 'happy' yet. We've still got some stuff to deal with.
> 
> Jess'll be ok...but between the drugs and trauma and physical injury and adrenaline comedown and other mental health stuff—she's a mess right now.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments/kudos/etc make me so happy. :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

Poe woke with a start. Something, or someone, quickly shuffled away from him. It took him a moment to remember where he was and how he’d gotten there. 

_Jess._ The thought sent a jolt through his brain and things started snapping into place. Adrenaline spiked in his system as he scrambled off the bench, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Something had woken him up, which meant that something had happened. He needed to make sure Jess was ok.

A dark blur of movement drew Poe’s attention as a child _(why is there a child on board?_ Poe wondered) made a quick retreat from him. His groggy brain finally caught up to his surroundings and he realized that he’d been woken by someone ( _this kid, it seems_ ) pulling on his sleeve. He looked towards the small figure in black and was met with scared, green eyes. The child stared for another moment before dropping his gaze to the floor.

“What’s happening?” Poe asked groggily.

“Excuse me, Sir,” the boy said quietly, looking down at his bare feet. “I do not mean to be rude or to overstep my place, but…may I ask you where I am? And who you are?”

The final pieces of his exhausted brain fell into place, reminding him that the boy in front of him was the child slave they had rescued from Gloarten’s ship— _Mattis,_ his mind supplied. Poe groaned and rubbed his eyes again, sinking back into his seat. The surge of adrenaline was already starting to fade. “You’re Mattis, right?”

“Yes, Sir,” the boy said quietly. “But you may call me whatever you wish.” Around the boy’s neck were Jess’s ID Tags. Poe reached inside his shirt and pulled out his own tags.

“Mattis,” Poe said more firmly. He gave the boy a tired smile. “Will you look at me?” he asked. 

The boy slowly raised his gaze to meet Poe’s. 

“Buddy…we’re the good guys,” Poe said, showing him his tags.

Mattis looked at the tags and then looked up at Poe’s face, faint hope glimmering in his eyes. “You are from the NRDF?”

“Yeah,” Poe nodded. “Well, two of us are. I am and my friend Muran—he’s up in the cockpit. We also have a Mandalorian with us.”

“We are on a starship?” The boy tilted his head. 

“Yeah, buddy. We are. A really fast one, too.” The boy shivered. Poe looked at the kid’s thin clothing and then down at his bare feet. They wouldn’t have any boots that would fit him, but maybe they had a pair of socks the kid could wear until they got back. “Let’s see if we can’t find you something warmer to wear.”

“I am fine,” Mattis said automatically.

“Humor me,” Poe said. He opened one of the lockers and tossed some warmer layers to the kid. “Just put these on. Sorry that they’re a little bit too big, we didn’t know we’d be bringing a kid home with us. We were looking—” 

“You came for Jess,” the boy said, pulling the jacket and socks on. “I know. Is she here?”

Poe glanced at the cracked door of the bunk room. “She’s sleeping right now. I think. But she’s here.”

The boy smiled timidly. “She said she hoped the NRDF would come.”

“Did she?” Poe grinned.

“She did not know if they would.”

Poe winced. “Yeah. We’re working on that.” The boy’s stomach grumbled. “When did you last eat, kid?”

“How long have I been in your possession?” Mattis asked.

“Whoa. No, no, no. You’re not in my _possession_ ,” Poe balked. “We’re giving you a ride to some people who are gonna help you find your family. That’s all. No, you’re…not a possession at all.”

“If you say so, Sir,” Mattis said quietly.

“Poe. My name is Poe. Please don’t…don’t call me Sir.” Jess’s aversion to the title made so much more sense now. It dawned on Poe that he’d probably have to get over being called ‘Sir’ by his squad, but at the moment, he never wanted to be called ‘Sir’ again.

“Poe.” Mattis smiled. “You were captured with Jess—I remember you. I thought you were killed. Master put you in a ship and then shot the ship down.”

Poe nodded. “I escaped.”

“That made Jess happy, yes?”

“Ye…you know, I’m not sure,” Poe frowned. “I hope so. We had a fight.”

“She was sad when she thought you had died. I think she is happy you are alive.”

“Glad to hear it,” Poe sighed. “You never answered my question. When did you last eat?”

“How long ago did you take me from Master?”

“Few hours.”

“Then I believe last night is when I ate yesterday’s meal,” Mattis said. 

“Yesterday’s meal? Are you telling me he only fed you once per _day_?” Poe asked incredulously. 

The boy nodded. “But it is ok. I am used to only eating once per day. I will not be a burden on you or your supplies.”

“Kriff,” Poe swore and wrinkled his brow as his brain processed the information. “That’s not what I’m worried about, kid. I just….wait. Jess said she’d had half a ration bar. Was that because you gave it to her?”

The boy nodded again and looked back at the floor.

“You gave her half of the one meal you got?” Poe asked.

Mattis started to wring his hands. “It is ok. I did not mind. Please do not be mad—”

“Whoa, whoa, buddy: I’m not mad,” Poe said. “You took care of my friend. I’m grateful. Thank you.”

“Oh.” Mattis looked up and met Poe’s dark eyes. His lips twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile. “You are welcome.”

“Now,” Poe stood up, “let’s get you something to eat. What flavors do you like?”

* * *

Jess listened as Poe spoke with Mattis—his voice calm and steady. She almost smiled as she listened as Poe tried to describe the different ration bar flavors to the boy before giving up and letting him try bites of a few different bars until he found ones he liked. Poe’s tempo and timbre were anchoring for Jess—more than she’d known she needed.

Ever since she’d gotten on board the _Rising Dawn,_ nothing had felt real. It all felt disconnected and hazy. She had been so sure that Poe had died—she’d seen the ship blow up. And yet…he was the one who had come back for her. The fact that he was alive was disorienting and made the rest of her memories feel suspect. Each memory felt like an isolated incident, not the long string of events she knew it was. She remembered Gloarten dragging her outside of the ship and holding the blaster to her head. She remembered him dropping the blaster and grabbing it herself. She remembered shooting Gloarten and the relief that came flooding through her system when the Devaronian went down and didn’t get back up. She remembered seeing Poe coming down the ramp and how it had felt to wrap her arms around him and hold on. She remembered the varns and jumping for the ship and Poe pulling her on board. And she remembered Yashi was there. And Mattis. She remembered all of the things she had tried to tell Poe at the same time. She remembered all of it, but distantly—as if she’d seen them in a holovid.

The panic attack hadn’t helped.

After Muran had calmed her down, Jess had floated through showering and through Poe treating her injuries, even more disconnected from her body—aside from the sharp spikes of pain. And their fight…it hadn’t felt real until her confession. Until she’d told him what she saw in the mirror and that she was willing to die to make sure that everyone else went home.

That was when everything had struck in harsh reality.

“Great work, Pava,” Jess whispered. She was furious with herself: she’d pushed away the one person in the world who cared enough to come back for her. She wouldn’t blame Poe if he told Command that she should never be allowed in an X-Wing cockpit ever again and got her grounded for life. She also wouldn’t blame him if he never wanted to speak to her again. He was right—he’d saved her life and she’d lit into him for no reason at all—even she couldn’t explain why she’d picked a fight with him. 

Why he’d done it, though…why he’d come after her…why he’d saved her life…why he’d stuck around…Jess couldn’t figure out what was in it for him.

Jess curled miserably into the corner of the bed, trying to make herself as small as possible. She’d done it: she hurt someone that she truly cared about. She had let them down and failed them, just like she knew she would. And to make it worse, it was Poe, the one person who had told her over and over that she couldn’t scare him away.

But there was no way he wouldn’t turn away and abandon her now.

* * *

Once Mattis had eaten three ration bars and drank a water pouch, Poe sent him to the cockpit to be with Muran so he could be alone again. He didn’t know what he was going to do yet, but having the nine-year-old with him limited his options. 

Finally, Poe gathered the courage to check on Jess. He quietly crossed the hold and glanced through the door of the bunk room. His heart skipped a beat when he couldn’t see her at first glance, only to realize that she had curled back into the farthest and darkest corner of the berth.

“Hey Jess,” Poe greeted quietly from the door, willing himself to sound calmer than he felt. Jess looked at him but didn’t move from her corner. _At least she acknowledged me,_ he thought darkly. 

“Hey,” she replied eventually. “Is Mattis ok?”

“He’s fine,” Poe said. “I got him some food and warmer clothes. Then sent him up to the cockpit to be with Muran and Yashi for a while.” 

Jess nodded. “Good. Thanks for taking care of him.” 

"Of course." Poe hesitated. “Can I come in?”

“Are you sure you want to?” Jess asked quietly. “After…I don’t…Poe, I’m so sor—”

“Don’t you apologize,” Poe said. “Don’t you dare. You have nothing to apologize for.” 

Jess bit her lip and nodded, blinking away tears.

Poe brought the lights up to 35%. 

“Can I sit with you?” he asked, indicating to the space next to her. She gave an almost imperceptible nod. As he stepped closer, he saw that Jess was shaking. He grabbed his jacket from where it had fallen to the floor and draped it over her before sitting down. “You’re gonna be ok, Jess. I’ve got you. You’re safe now. I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

“Not your fault,” she murmured, her voice muffled by her arms. Poe slowly reached his hand out and put it on Jess’s shoulder. He was concerned that she would flinch away from him or worse: he’d trigger another panic attack, but he was even more terrified when his touch seemed to spark her tears. In the past two years, Poe could count on one hand the number of times he had seen Jessika Pava cry, and two of those times were in the last week.

“Jess, I—” he was cut off when Jess crashed into him and stayed there, pressed against his side. Poe carefully draped his arm around her and held her close. Slowly, he moved them so he was lying down, propped up against the wall, and Jess was curled against his side with her head on his chest. He gently rubbed her back and hummed an old Yavin lullaby his mother used to sing as Jess sobbed.

They stayed like that until Jess’s crying quieted and her breathing was back under control. 

Poe whispered, “Can…can we talk about this?”

“Which part?” she said with a humorless laugh.

“Whichever part you’re willing to talk about,” he replied softly. “But I think you need to talk.”

Jess closed her eyes and nodded hesitantly. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Better now than when we’re back and some psytech has to sit in.”

Poe swallowed thickly. “Before…” he cleared his throat, “before all of…this…you never told me about your past—that you were a slave. Why not?”

Jess sighed and clutched Poe’s jacket more tightly around her. “Because I didn’t want you to look at me like you are right now.” She kept her focus on the far wall, not willing to look at Poe. “With pity. Like something’s wrong with me. Like I’m fragile or damaged.”

“Oh, Jess,” Poe murmured and kissed the top of her head and waited. When she didn’t shy away from him, he continued. “I’m not looking at you with pity. I’m looking at you with amazement. You faced some of the worst the galaxy has to offer and you used that fire to forge yourself into something stronger than anyone thought possible. You are the most badass woman I know. Absolutely nothing you could ever tell me would change my opinion of you.”

“You say that as I’m literally crying on your shoulder,” she replied with a wet laugh.

Poe chuckled. “I’m serious, Jess. You are incredible. You execute maneuvers people with twice your experience can’t manage. You stare down death and say, ‘not today’ every single time. You can calculate a jump faster than any astromech I’ve ever known. You stand up for people and stare bullies down. And you are so deeply kind—to the core of your being, you are kind. There is _nothing_ wrong with you. You are not fragile or damaged. You are Kriffing Jessika Pava: survivor, loyal to a fault, daredevil, kickass pilot, genius, and my friend. Maybe one of my best friends.”

Jess smiled sadly. “I don’t know about all that.”

“You’re not sitting where I am,” Poe said softly.

“And I’m just supposed to trust that?” 

“No. Trust this,” he said, weaving their fingers together. “Trust me.”

“Why?” she asked. Poe could hear in her tone that it was a genuine question, not one that came from a need to defend or protect herself.

“Because I do know about that,” Poe gave her a gentle squeeze, “I do know about who you are. I wish you had felt like you could tell me about this—that I made you feel safe enough to share it. Because that’s an impossibly hard thing to deal with on your own. I wish I had earned your trust before now so I could have known. I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t share this with me.”

“I do trust you!” Jess sat up and turned to meet Poe’s eyes. Her red-rimmed eyes met his with firm conviction and desperation that he understood her. “Me not telling you had nothing to do with not trusting you. Poe, I trust you with my life.”

“But you’re not so sure you can trust me with your heart,” Poe said, softly repeating the words she had told him on Dandoran. Jess opened her mouth to respond but didn’t say anything. “It’s fine, Jess. We don’t have to talk about this. You don’t owe me an explanation. You don’t owe me anything.” He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “You never owe me anything.”

“I didn’t tell you because I hoped it wouldn’t ever even matter. And if I didn’t tell you, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t part of my new life on Hosnian Prime.” Jess slid back down and laid her head back on Poe’s chest. Her hand moved to idly fidget with Poe’s ID Tags against his sternum. “It happened when I was 8,” she said softly.

“Jess, you don’t have to—”

“I know. I want to. I want you to know.” She took a deep breath to steady herself and continued. “So you know I’m from Dandoran and you know Dandoran isn’t exactly known for its friendly locals. It’s deep in Hutt Space, so you know the type: smugglers, drug cartels, pirates, the Empire experimenting on their own people.”

Poe’s eyes widened. He craned his head forward a bit to see Jess’s face better. “I thought the Undead Troopers were just a myth.”

“Nope. Very real,” Jess confirmed. “But that’s not the point. My family was farmers—we were pretty removed from all of that. Dad worked on ships, mom was a medic, and we had the farm. Caf and jogan fruit mainly. We were on a trip when my, um, my family was kidnapped by pirates,” she scoffed. “That’s such a stupid sentence to have to say, but…” she tried to huff a laugh, but it came out as more of a sob. Poe rested his cheek on top of Jess’s head.

“I’m sorry,” Jess whispered. Her voice was so soft that Poe thought if he breathed any louder, he would miss what she was saying entirely.

“You have nothing to apologize for. Take your time,” Poe said softly. “I’m staying right here.”

* * *

Jess looked at Poe, wondering if, now that the opportunity had presented itself, she actually wanted to tell him everything in her head. The memory from the cell of her regretting not telling him came forward: painful and unyielding. She never wanted to feel that regret again, so she took a deep breath and started to tell him everything.

She told him about the slave market on Pensar, about the terror she’d felt, the worthlessness she’d felt when she’d been sold to the highest bidder, the grief at being separated from her parents and sister. She told him about the various beings that had owned her over the years: Fässu the Clawdite pod racer from Tatooine, the human woman Lethe, Sveen the Sullustan racer, the Zygerrian queen, the Togrutan, and about Gloarten. She told him about her life under each of them: the punishments, the mind games, the fear, and the hopelessness. She told him all the things she had told Antilles and Wexley, all the things she had told her psytech, and all of the things she had never told anyone before—the things she wished she could forget.

She told him everything. Every detail, every scar. And she hoped that he’d meant it when he’d said he was staying with her. Her heart clenched and she closed her eyes, waiting for Poe’s reaction.

* * *

Poe felt like he couldn’t move. Everything that Jess had told him…it was too much. How could someone do that to a child? To anyone?

“Please say something,” Jess whispered.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Poe said quietly. “You…” he cleared his throat, “Are your parents really dead?”

Jess shrugged the shoulder that wasn’t buried in his side. “I dunno,” she whispered. “I told you that my parents were dead, but that was kind of a lie because I really don’t know what happened to them. I was separated from my family at the slave market. I…I’ve not seen them since. So…maybe. Part of me hopes they’re not dead so I might see them again. But the other part of me hopes they are because…because life as a slave is no life at all.”

“Maybe they’ve been freed, too,” Poe said hopefully.

“No,” Jess shook her head. “That’s not likely. Most masters don’t just…free their slaves. It’s still illegal in most systems, you know. And they don’t want some freed slave to do exactly what I did to Gloarten to them.”

“You didn’t say much about Gloarten, but you were with him the longest.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Poe winced.

“Yeah,” Jess said quietly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I just—”

“It’s ok,” Jess said, quietly cutting him off. She leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling as if willing herself to not cry again. “You should know. I was ten when Glortan bought me, he said he needed someone small to fit into the engine compartments of his racing ships to do repairs.”

“That’s why you know so much about engines.”

She smiled wryly. “Been doing it since I was a kid. This probably won’t make sense to you, but…after the others, Gloarten was…he was a relief. He gave the most straightforward orders I’d ever gotten. I knew where I stood with him. I knew what he wanted me to do. At least…I did until he started changing the rules.”

“Jess,” Poe started and hesitated. He cleared his throat. “You don’t have to tell me, but did he ever force himself…?”

Jess knew where he was going and shook her head. “No,” she replied.

“Good,” Poe gave a sigh of relief.

“He didn’t want a sex slave. None of my masters did. He had three wives and a husband—he had no desire for some little brat like me. He beat me, barely fed me, made unachievable demands of me and then punished me when I failed to meet those demands—”

“I’ll kill him again,” Poe cut in darkly.

“—but he never forced himself on me.”

Poe nodded slowly, processing the information Jess had shared. “What do you mean by changing the rules?”

“Mental games. If I got hurt…was a bacta bandage worth a day’s rations? Was a jacket on a cold planet worth losing my work gloves or eye protection? Always a tradeoff. Always a bargain.”

“What a monster,” Poe said quietly.

Jess hmmed noncommittally. “I dunno. As far as slave owners go, I guess you could maybe say I got kinda lucky,” she said softly.

“Excuse me…lucky?” Poe pushed himself up onto one elbow. He couldn’t believe his ears. “Lucky?”

Jess dropped the ID Tags and pushed Poe back down onto the bed. Once he’d laid back down, she reached over for Poe’s hand. He held it steady as she traced the lines on his palm and ran her fingers over his calluses.

“Yeah, lucky. Don’t misunderstand me, Glortan was a mean son of a rankor and I wouldn’t wish what happened to me on anyone, but because of him, I learned everything there was to know about every ship I could get my hands on. By the time I was twelve, I could fix and fly pretty much anything. I was good—really good. And Glortan knew it. He also knew I was getting too big to fit into engine compartments. So, he started entering me in races. Told me that if I won five million credits for him, he would free me. That’s not a chance every slave gets.”

Poe knew about that deal, but he hadn’t heard a number until now. “Still doesn’t make you lucky,” he said with a low whistle. “And that is a _huge_ amount of credits.”

“It’s also one hell of an incentive. By the time I was sixteen, I’d done it. I won enough for my freedom.”

“So he just let you go? You left and he got another slave to do his work?” he asked. He knew that wasn’t what had happened: Yashi had told him about this part of their history. But Poe didn’t want to let her know what Yashi had shared with him. Even though it was also the Mandalorian’s story to tell, Poe felt guilty for knowing it without Jess having been the one to share it. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

She laughed darkly. “Please. He took me to get my tattoo filled in and the inhibitor chip removed and then he just left me there on Raxus. That’s…that’s when I met Yashi.”

Poe nodded slowly. “So then what happened?”

“I knew going in that if I won, I would cross the five million credit mark. And I suspected that if I did, he would leave me behind, exactly like he did. So before the race, I put a tracer on his ship. Once he was gone, I reported him to the New Republic for slave trading. While he was tied up in the courts, I had Yashi take me to his compound and I blew it to hell. I mean, I reduced it to kriffing _quarks_. By the time he had bribed himself out of legal trouble, Gloarten had nothing left: no credits, no ships, no pilot, no compound, no slaves. And I think at least two of his wives left him.”

“That’s why when he saw you, he came after you.”

“Yeah. He wanted revenge. The universe is big and, while I doubt he’s been actively looking for me, when I practically fell into his lap, he wasn’t gonna ignore that. You almost can’t blame him. _Almost_.” 

Poe sat up slightly and shifted to get a better look at her. Something she had said about the compound finally registered in his mind. “Wait a second: you’re telling me that you, Jessika Pava: pilot, gearhead, ship lover, mechanic, and Five Sabers fanatic, really destroyed all of his racing ships?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. Poe settled back down into his previous position, surprised and impressed. “Well, all except two: some Corellian Starskip racer that Yashi wanted—it’s what I promised him in payment for helping me—and a classic Alderaanian Racer, the _Istabith_. It was a super rare find after Alderaan was destroyed by the Death Star…” She sobered briefly before she smiled wide, remembering the ship. “But Poe, It was a beautiful ship: the body was still in excellent condition, though the engine had been burnt out by some pilot Gloarten had hired that had no respect for her. I rebuilt the engine myself and restored the ship to her prime. It was a thing of beauty and Glortan didn’t deserve such a ship. I took her and shopped her around for a while. I only wanted to sell to someone who would appreciate her the way I did. I eventually sold it to a racer and collector who told me that his wife was from Alderaan and he wanted to give it to her as a gift. I thought he’d be a good home for the _Istabith_. I used the credits from the sale to buy a modern racer and kept racing. Savings from racing is eventually how I bought my X-Wing, too.”

“You didn’t want to race the _Istabith_?”

“She wasn’t fast enough,” she grinned, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Stunning ship, but she was old. Had dated technology. I wouldn’t have won anything.” She sighed. “But I would love to know where she ended up.”

“Maybe you’ll find it again one day,” Poe suggested.

“Maybe I will. Maybe it’ll be a sign from the Universe or something,” Jess sighed. “Probably not, though. The galaxy is big and people who collect classic racers don’t really run in the same circles as orphan pilots like me.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” Poe chuckled. “Orphan pilots are some of the best.”

“Name one.”

“Your favorite: Luke Skywalker.”

Jess groaned. “That’s low.”

“You asked me to name one,” Poe smiled.

“You’re right. I guess I set myself up for that one,” Jess sighed and nestled closer to Poe.

“So how does the Hy’thor Group fit in with all of this?”

“Right between slavery and racing,” Jess muttered. “There aren’t that many options for a 16-year-old with a chip on her shoulder.”

“You mean other than traipsing across the galaxy with a Mandalorian?” Poe asked, trying for a joke.

“Yeah,” Jess rolled her eyes, “other than that. So, Lompiach and his father were taken by a rival gang. Don’t know why. Didn’t care then, don’t care now. Anyway, some friend of Yashi’s was friends with someone who was also friends with Sible. She was looking for someone who could fight and someone who could fly to help get them out. And, well, she found us.”

“Yashi said that you took some risks.”

“Did he, now?” Jess sighed. “What else did he say?” 

“He just told me how you guys got hooked up with the Hy’thor Group.”

“What did he say?” Jess repeated. 

“He said you did some piloting that he’d never seen anyone else do. Dangerous stuff like killing power on the descent and doing a controlled freefall? And then going in to get Yashi out when things got tight?” 

“He didn’t tell you about our escape, did he?” Jess grinned. 

“What did you do?” 

“Made a…creative getaway through a few systems.” 

“You lightspeed skipped, didn’t you?” Poe asked. “That’s insanely risky.”

Jess sat up enough to look at Poe’s face. “You’ve done it.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because you called it risky, not impossible,” Jess grinned and laid back down. “When did you do it?”

“Got bored on Yavin IV one day. Convinced one of the smugglers to show me the math,” Poe lied.

Jess raised an eyebrow. “Sure,” she said, unconvinced. “So what else did Yashi tell you?”

Poe chewed his lip. “He told me why you left.”

Jess nodded slowly against his chest. “I thought he might have.”

“Wanna tell me about it?” Poe asked. “From your perspective?” 

Jess shrugged. “How much do you know?”

“Yashi told me that you all came across a ship and were going to…commandeer it when you found out what their cargo was.”

“People aren’t cargo,” Jess said quickly, her tone sharp.

“I’m sorry,” Poe soothed, wrapping his free hand around hers and squeezing gently. “I didn’t mean that. Yashi said that when you found that they were carrying slaves, you were angry, but Ompiach—that was his name, right?—Ompiach traded them for hyperspace lanes.”

“Fucking coward,” Jess spat. “Thought I could ignore what he did at first, but…I couldn’t.”

“So you left.”

“So I left,” Jess confirmed. She flattened Poe’s hand out again and went back to tracing it with her fingers. “I took my stuff, took my racer, and…disappeared.”

“Are you mad he never came looking for you?” Poe asked.

“Yashi?”

“Yeah.”

Jess shifted uncomfortably. “I was. But I’m not now. Not really. I don’t trust him anymore, but…”

“But you loved him.”

“I told you—”

“I know what you said. But I also know how you look at him. And that he was ready to do whatever it took to make sure you were safe. If that isn't love…”

“Maybe I did. But I was young and angry and…and he made sense.” 

“We all do stupid things when we’re young and angry. Falling in love with an older Mandalorian bounty hunter seems like a pretty minor transgression.”

“What do you know about being young and angry?” Jess asked.

“Plenty,” Poe laughed.

“Oh really?”

“Really. I’ll tell you about it sometime,” Poe said, both wanting to and dreading telling Jess about his own demons. “I think I more or less know the rest of the story from what you’ve told me before on Dandoran.”

“Yeah,” Jess nodded. “Raced, won, raced some more, won some more. Got caught. On repeat. Eventually, got caught one time too many and was introduced to Antilles.”

“And now you’re an NRDF Cadet.”

“Sure looks that way.”

Poe turned his hand over and interlaced his fingers with Jess’s.

Poe closed his eyes and shook his head with a smirk. “All of this makes you make so much more sense.”

“What does that mean?” Jess asked softly.

“You had no business being as good as you were in a cockpit when we met. Or under the hood of a ship. And your entire… ’Fuck you, fight me’ demeanor and self-deprecating attitude were so confusing and in such sharp contrast to the other things I saw in you. But…now I get it. It’s also why Antilles was willing to bring me in as a private instructor for you and why he wanted you to stay in the Academy. And why he was willing to bend so many rules to give you a chance.” Poe chuckled. “I gotta say, it’s unconventional.”

“Are you calling me weird?”

Poe shook his head and smiled. “No, I’m calling you extraordinary.”

Jess lifted her head enough to see Poe’s face. She had an odd look on her face as if she was trying to decide if he was serious about thinking she was extraordinary. Poe met her gaze, promising her that he was telling the truth. She smiled and laid her head back down on his chest. Her hand wandered back to his ID Tags.

“I gave mine to Mattis,” Jess said softly, changing the subject.

Poe wasn’t going to push Jess anywhere she didn’t want to go tonight and so he let the moment go. “I saw.”

“I thought that Gloarten would probably kill me before anyone came looking—if anyone came looking. I figured a search droid might eventually ping them. And if he had them…”

“He’d have a chance to be found,” Poe finished for her.

“Yeah.”

“Well, we’ll just have to get you some new ones when we get back to Hosnian Prime.”

Jess nodded. “Alright.”

Poe could tell Jess was fading fast. She was finally calm enough that sleep seemed like it was a possibility. He shifted his arm around her shoulders.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jess whispered. 

“Of course.” 

“What do you get out of this?” she asked.

“What?” Poe furrowed his brow.

“What’s in it for you to have come back for me? To save my life and to stick around?”

Poe’s voice caught in his throat. This wasn’t a question Jess would normally ask. Something, whether it was relief or the relative darkness of the bunk room or the exhaustion that permeated her system or something else, had lowered her shields enough for the vulnerable question to sneak through. And Poe knew he had one chance to answer it well. 

“A friend,” he said after a moment. 

“That’s it?” 

“That’s it,” Poe confirmed. “That’s what friends do, Pava—they come back for you, they save you, and they stick around for no reason other than that they care about you. Nothing else is ‘in it’ for me.” 

“And you’re gonna stick around?” Jess asked, latching onto the words. “Even knowing…everything?” 

“Yeah, Jess. I’m not going anywhere,” Poe promised. He sighed. “I’m really glad you’re still here.” 

“I’m glad you’re still here, too,” Jess repeated tiredly. “And I’m glad I told you everything. No one else knows what you do. It’s…it’s nice that someone else knows.”

“I thought that Antilles and Wexley know about all of this. Don’t they?”

“Well, yeah. Kind of. I told Antilles the basics when he had me brought to that hotel on Cantonica, and then I filled in the gaps for him and Wexley later on. They…they don’t know everything you do, now. And aside from them…Yashi knows some of it, and my psytech knows most of it. And I know that…I know that you had to tell some of what you knew to Muran, but I don’t like to tell people, so please—”

“I’ll never tell a soul,” Poe promised her. “But…why haven’t you told anyone else?”

“I dunno,” Jess replied automatically. “Sorry, that’s a lie. I do know. I…I’m not ashamed of what happened to me. I was a child and I couldn’t _do_ anything about it. I didn’t ask for it to happen. But…I’ve always been afraid that if I tell someone, they’ll respond by treating me like I’m made of glass and am too fragile or that I’ll be easily triggered or whatever. Or that they’ll run away. And you didn’t do any of that. You’re still…you, I guess.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Poe told her again. “I promise.” 

“I…I know. And I think I believe that now,” Jess murmured. 

“I’ll remind you as many times as you need me to until it sticks. And even after that.” 

Jess smiled softly. “Thanks.”

“Always for you,” he replied quietly, leaning his cheek on her head.

“You said that before,” Jess yawned. “What did you mean by it?”

“I meant what I said. I’m always for you.” 

“You’re not making sense,” Jess said, her eyes sliding shut.

Poe chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of Jess’s head. “I’ll explain some other time. When you’re awake enough to remember it.” 

“Mmmm. Ok,” Jess murmured.

“Still with me, Jess?”

“Kinda. I’m exhausted.” Her body was still and warm and heavy against Poe’s side; sleep was moments away.

Poe laughed softly. “I don’t doubt that. You’ve been through hell these last few days. Sleep. Rest. I’ll be in the cockpit if you need me.” He gently extracted himself from Jess and laid her down on the berth. She sat up and started to take off his jacket when he stopped her. “Hold onto that for me,” he winked. She nodded and put her head back down on the pillow. Poe rubbed her back one last time before going to the door. He dimmed the lights to 15% and started to step out into the berth.

“Poe,” Jess stopped him.

“Yeah?”

“Leave the door open please,” Jess asked, her voice small.

“Of course. Call me if you need anything, OK?” Jess nodded and Poe stepped out the door.

“Hey, Poe!” Jess called.

“Yeah?” he poked his head back into the bunk room.

“Thank you for…well…everything.”

“Of course. Now sleep. I’ll see you when you wake up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok...now we can start being happier. 
> 
> Not a lot of action this time, but we're nearing the end and so things are wrapping up. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Comments and Kudos are so appreciated.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***This chapter contains some light spoilers for the book "Poe Dameron: Free Fall". Definitely doesn't ruin the book (it's more like spoilers without context), but if you're reading it and want to be totally unaware, skip the two paragraphs between the asterisks. Just a friendly little warning.***
> 
> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

Poe sat down heavily at the table in the hold. He was exhausted, but after talking with Jess, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to sleep—his head was still spinning with all that she’d told him. Instead, he pulled out his datapad and began typing up his report. It was going to take some heavy editing to make the last few days NRDF-appropriate, and he figured he might as well start now. Three pages in and he had only gotten as far as arriving on Ibanjji. Bleary eyes forced him to take a break. He put his head in his hands and let out a deep sigh.

“How is she?” Yashi asked. Poe jumped—he hadn’t heard the Mandalorian arrive. 

Poe looked up at him. “Sleeping,” he said. “Finally.”

“Is she ok?”

“Better than I think we had any right to hope she’d be,” Poe said. He ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you for helping us. I don’t think Muran and I could have done this alone.”

Yashi sat down next to Poe and put his helmet on the table. “Sure you could have. But I’m happy I could help. I’d do anything to keep her safe.”

“I know you would.”

“Haven’t always shown that, though, have I?” Yashi gave Poe a sad smile.

“How’s the kid?” Poe asked, changing the subject.

“Mattis? He’s great. Took him a little while, but he’s asking lots of questions and Muran seems pretty happy answering them. The kid knows his stuff.”

“Pava did, too,” Poe said. “Kind of Gloarten’s trademark.”

“Yeah,” Yashi agreed. “But I think he’s gonna be alright. Kids are resilient and he’s already opening up more and showing some personality.”

“Glad to hear that,” Poe said, looking down at the dark screen of his datapad.

Yashi cleared his throat. “I wanted to let you know that I’ve asked Muran to take me to Krownest on your way back to Hosnian Prime. He says we’ll be there in about an hour or so.”

“Krownest? Never heard of it.”

“It’s a planet in the Mandalore sector—it’s where my ship has been stored since Pava left and I stayed on with the Hy’thor Group. That’s where I’ll leave you. I doubt we’ll see each other again.”

“So you’re turning your back on Pava?”

“No,” Yashi shook his head. “I told you I’d do anything to keep her safe. And I think that…I think that the best thing I can do to keep her safe might be to keep her safe from me.”

“That sounds a lot like abandonment to me,” Poe countered.

“It’s not abandonment. It’s a parting of ways,” Yashi replied. “You’re still young, Poe. But someday, you’ll learn that the end of something isn’t always a bad thing. Endings are sad, but everything begins again. And beginnings are happy.”

Poe gave Yashi a confused look. “I don’t think I understand what you mean.”

“You were right. The last time Pava and I parted ways, I did it all wrong. I didn’t look out for her like I should have. She was alone. But she’s not alone anymore. And she doesn’t need me to look out for her any longer. Not when she has someone better than me looking out for her.”

Poe’s eyes widened in surprise. “Are you saying—”

“You’re better for her than I could ever be,” Yashi said with a small smile, “than I could ever _hope_ to be.”

“Yashi, you were there at the beginning—"

“You’re not listening, Poe. She’s better with you than she ever was or ever will be with me,” Yashi said. “And maybe I was there at the beginning—right after Gloarten. But you’ve been there for the last two years—at the beginning of the NRDF, right after racing. And four years ago, I should have gone after her, but I didn’t. And because I didn’t…well, it turns out, without me in the way, she was able to find her way to you. And she’s better for it. It’s been a long road, and it sure as hell hasn’t been easy, but I wouldn’t change the outcome for her, even if I could. Would you?”

Poe bit his lip and shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t.”

Yashi smiled. “Good. And…I know you’re in this with her. She’s not alone.” 

“No, she’s not,” Poe agreed.

“I know that I hurt her. You said it yourself: I don’t even know all the damage I did. And you’re right, I don’t. And I know I have no right to ask you this, but…can I say goodbye to her? Do it right this time?”

“Why would you ask me that?” Poe asked.

Yashi nodded slowly, a disappointed but understanding look on his face. “That’s fair. That’s completely fair. I’ve done my damage, I shouldn’t have asked—”

“No,” Poe shook his head. “You’re misunderstanding me. You shouldn’t be asking me that because it’s not my decision to make—it’s hers.”

“But—”

“She’s hurt, not incompetent. She’s not some maiden in need of protection like in a fairytale.”

Yashi’s lips quirked at the comparison. “Do you think she’ll want to hear it?” 

“Only one way to find out,” Poe said.

The Mandalorian sighed. “I hate that I’m gonna go wake her up with that.”

“Better than her waking up and you’re gone.”

“True,” Yashi agreed. “I mean it, Poe: I’m glad.”

“Glad about what?”

“I’m glad she has you in her corner now. You get her.”

Poe smiled. “Thanks.” He groaned and looked back down at his datapad. “So…I should probably keep your name out of my report, yeah?”

“I would appreciate that, yeah,” Yashi chuckled. “What are you writing in that report anyway? I feel like a lot of what we did isn’t exactly NRDF-sanctioned.”

“Or Pava-sanctioned.” Poe grinned and turned his datapad on. He spun it around so the Mandalorian could see what he’d been writing. “Anything to add?”

Forty minutes later, Poe was nearly done with his report and some ‘creative editing’ by Yashi had made it almost NRDF-appropriate.

Small, socked footsteps came from the cockpit. Poe glanced up to see Mattis walk into the room. The boy was still cautious, but less so than when he’d first talked to Poe.

“Excuse me,” the boy said softly. “Muran sent me to let you know that we have entered the New Kleyman system and he expects that we will be landing on Krownest in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Mattis,” Poe said softly. The boy nodded and returned quickly to the cockpit.

“Well, guess it’s time,” Yashi said, pushing himself to his feet.

Poe put his datapad down and followed Yashi to the bunkroom. He stood in the doorway, watching as Yashi said goodbye to Jess. He tried to convince himself that he wasn’t watching because he didn’t trust Yashi to not try and convince Jess to leave with him, but…no, it was definitely that Poe didn’t trust Yashi with Jess. 

“Hey, Pava,” Yashi sat on the edge of her bed and gently touched her shoulder. “Wake up.”

“Yashi?” Jess blinked her eyes open. “What is it? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Yashi said quietly. “This is my stop.”

“Oh. Okay.” Jess nodded slowly. She reached out for his hand.

Yashi took her hand and squeezed gently. He leaned forward and kissed Jess on the forehead. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

Jess’s brow furrowed. “It sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

“I think I am,” Yashi said.

“Yash—” Jess started to sit up. Yashi pushed her back down with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. I let you down,” Yashi said. “And I won’t make that mistake again. If you ever need me, I’ll be there. But I don’t think that’ll happen.” He glanced over his shoulder at Poe. “You’ve got someone better looking out for you now.”

Jess opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She looked like she might tell Yashi that there wasn’t anyone better to look out for her, but when she glanced at Poe, he could tell that she thought that if she said that, it would be a lie.

Yashi gave her a bittersweet smile. “I’ll see you around, Pava,” he said with one final squeeze of her hand before he stood and started to leave the bunkroom.

“Hey, Yashi?” Jess called.

“Yeah?” He turned around and met Jess’s gaze.

“My first name…it’s Jess.”

Yashi smiled. “Jess,” he said, testing the name out. “I like it. It suits you. Bye, Jess.” He nodded again and left the room.

Poe followed Yashi out of the bunkroom. The Mandalorian took his bag from the floor and his helmet from the table before he continued to the ramp.

“Thank you,” Yashi said quietly.

“For what?”

“For letting me say goodbye. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t let me—if you felt you needed to protect her from me.”

“I told you: that isn’t my call to make. My job isn’t to protect her, she can take care of herself. My job is to have her back so she doesn’t have to do it alone,” Poe said. “And if she knew you asked my permission to say goodbye, she’d probably yell at you. And me.”

“She probably would,” Yashi agreed with a grin. “So if you won’t accept my thanks for letting me say goodbye, let me say thank you for making sure she doesn’t have to do this alone.” 

Poe nodded. It didn’t feel like something he should accept thanks for. He cleared his throat and looked away.

“Muran, how we looking?” Poe called.

“We’re down. Ready for Yashi to disembark when he’s ready,” the response was shouted back.

“Are you?” Poe asked the man.

Yashi nodded, his face stoic. Poe hit the button to lower the ramp and was immediately hit with a blast of icy cold air.

“Kriff. You sure this is the place?” Poe asked, wrapping his arms around himself to keep warm.

“This is the place,” Yashi confirmed. “Welcome to Krownest. It’s the ancestral home of Clan Wren. I knew the youngest son in school, he let me store my ship here.”

“ _Where?_ ” Poe asked, looking over the frozen tundra.

“It’s about five klicks,” Yashi turned and pointed, “that way. But if you take me any closer, you’ll risk them firing on you and taking down your ship. I’ll be fine. The guards will see me and send a hoversled.”

“In that case, sounds like this is goodbye,” Poe said, offering Yashi his hand. “Again, thank you for helping me save her.”

“You’re welcome,” Yashi said stoically as he shook Poe’s hand. “I’m glad I could be there for her this time.”

“Sorry we caused a falling out for you with Lompiach and his gang.”

Yashi shrugged. “It was time to move on. That’s the life of a Mandalorian.” He took his helmet from under his arm and put it on. He slung his bag over his shoulder and turned to face the ramp. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Least we could do,” Poe said, leaning against the wall. “Good luck out there.”

“If our paths cross again…know I will meet you as a friend,” Yashi said.

Poe nodded. “Same goes for me.”

Yashi nodded once and walked down the ramp and into the snow. Just as Poe was about to close the ramp, the Mandalorian turned around and shouted at him.

“Hey, Poe!”

“Yeah?” Poe replied, looking straight into the man’s visor.

“I meant what I said: you’re good for her. And I think she’s good for you. So take care of her.”

“I will,” Poe promised. Yashi nodded once more before he turned around and started walking in the direction he’d indicated his ship was in. Poe watched until the Mandalorian climbed to the top of a snowdrift, turned around and gave him a final salute, and disappeared down from view. With a shiver, Poe closed the ramp and turned to go to the cockpit.

“Hey,” Poe greeted.

“Hello,” Mattis said. He was sitting on his knees in the copilot’s seat, watching with curiosity as Muran lifted the ship back into space.

“Our Mandalorian passenger has departed?” Muran asked, his voice calm and deep.

“Yeah, he’s gone,” Poe sighed.

Muran’s lips twitched in an almost-smile as he prepped the hyperspace coordinates. “You didn’t like him very much, did you?”

“I didn’t _dislike_ him exactly. It’s just…complicated,” Poe said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Go sleep. Both of you. I’ll take us home.”

“I am functional to stay awake if you require it,” Mattis said.

“Yeah, you are definitely gonna go sleep,” Poe said, gently patting the kid’s head. “You too, Muran.”

Muran looked sideways at Poe. “I’m positive I’ve gotten more sleep in the last week than you have.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Poe replied easily. “But I got a few hours back on the table and after talking to Jess, I’m not sure I’m gonna be sleeping anytime soon.”

“Pava talked to you?” Muran asked with interest. “What’d she say?”

“Nothing that’s mine to repeat. Now go! Sleep.”

“You sure you don’t want my company?” Muran asked.

“Of course I want your company. But I also want you to get some good rest.”

Muran sighed and stood so he was facing Poe. “You’re a good man, Dameron.” He clapped a hand on Poe’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

“I try,” Poe grinned. When he realized how close Muran’s body was to his, he bit his lip, his eyes flickering to Muran’s lips. Muran noticed the action and smiled.

“See something you like?” he asked, his voice low.

“Maybe. But I only like well-rested partners. Makes it more fun.” Poe winked.

“There are children present, Commander,” Muran laughed, and squeezed Poe’s shoulder affectionately.

Poe gave a half shrug. “I didn’t say anything inappropriate. Just that I’d rather you be well rested before we…get to know each other better. _I’d_ like to be better rested, too, for that matter,” he laughed. 

“You win—this time,” Muran said with a grin. Poe leaned his head over and pressed Muran’s hand between his cheek and his shoulder. He turned his head and kissed the side of the other man’s hand.

“Sleep,” Poe whispered.

“Sure thing, Poe,” Muran said with a smile. He turned to leave the cockpit. “Come on, kid,” he said to Mattis, “Boss wants to fly by himself for a while. Let’s go get some shut-eye.”

Mattis hopped off the chair and followed Muran to the door.

“Wait a second—” Muran said and turned back around, “did you say you slept on the table?”

“Good night, Muran,” Poe waved him off as he dropped into the pilot’s seat.

A few hours later, Poe heard slow footsteps make their way to the cockpit. He grinned—too slow and light to be Muran’s steps and too heavy to be the kid’s. That left only one possibility.

“Hey Jess,” Poe greeted as she stepped into the cockpit, still wearing his jacket. “Feeling any better?”

“That’s all relative.” 

_That at least sounds like her_ , Poe thought to himself as she sighed and sank into the copilot seat.“Relative to what?” he asked.

“Compared to how I normally feel? I feel like hell. Like I was shot and then hit by a speeder and then stepped on by a rancor. Compared to a few hours ago? I feel marginally better. My joints all feel kinda locked up, but I guess that’s probably not that unusual for someone in my condition.”

“I’m not a medic, but it’s definitely possible. We’ll get you checked out when we get back to the Academy.”

Jess nodded. “Where’s Muran?”

“Sleeping. If you didn’t see him, I’d assume he’s in the other cabin.”

“What about Mattis?”

“He’s been up, but he should also be asleep. Hasn’t been up here since after we dropped Yashi off and I sent Muran to bed,” Poe grinned “The kid’s taken to Muran like a baby bird to its mother.”

Jess chuckled. “Good. So how long 'til we’re home?”

“We just dropped out a few minutes ago to adjust and make the final jump. The drop is probably what woke you up. We’ll be home in about an hour.”

“Hmm,” Jess looked around the ship.

“What’s on your mind, Pava?”

“How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long was I there?” she asked.

“Best I can tell, about 54 hours. I didn’t have a chrono with me, though.” 

“Only two days?” Jess asked disbelievingly. 

“Little more, but yeah. Only about two days,” Poe confirmed. 

Jess shook her head. “Feels like I was there so much longer.” 

“Unfortunately, that’s a pretty typical experience for someone who’s been held prisoner and tortured,” Poe said sympathetically. Jess nodded but didn’t say anything. “Hey, what is it?” 

She hesitated before she said, “Only two days means you’re probably not over it yet. So how mad at me are you? For what I did, I mean.”

“What you did? Which time?”

Jess let out a sharp laugh before she groaned and wrapped an arm across her ribs. “I deserved that,” she muttered. “The fact that there’s more than one thing you could be mad about…I deserved that.”

“No, you didn’t. But I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Do you mean our fight in the bunk room?” Poe asked, trying to figure out what she thought he was mad about.

Jess shook her head. “No. Specifically, I was talking about the deal I made with Gloarten to try and save your life,” she said. “The one that ended up being no deal at all,” she added darkly.

Poe chuckled. “I’m more relieved you’re alive than mad at what you did.” He sighed. “Are you ok? I know what you said before, but…after some sleep and letting your body sort itself out…how are you feeling?”

Jess shrugged. “I dunno.”

“You gonna tell me what happened to you on the _Schrei_ —what he did to you?”

“Haven’t I told you enough today?” Jess said tiredly. She frowned. “That was still today, yeah?”

“That was just a few hours ago,” Poe confirmed. “You know Yashi’s gone, right?”

Jess nodded. “That felt real.”

“Ok, good,” Poe said. “Look, you don’t have to tell me. You never have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“I don’t think you want to know what he did,” Jess said with a sigh. “We don’t both need nightmares.”

“Maybe that’s all the more reason I should know,” Poe said quietly. “So I can understand what you’re dealing with. But like I said, you don’t have to. No pressure.”

Jess shook her head and looked up at the roof of the cockpit, blinking away tears. Poe pretended he didn’t see them. “I mean, I don’t think it was that different from most people being captured,” Jess tried to joke.

“Jess,” Poe said seriously.

“Sorry,” she cleared her throat. “Um, I mean, there was the stuff we train for, right? Physical beatings, food and water deprivation, bright lights, cold temperatures—all kinda standard torture fare.”

“That’s not a phrase I like hearing you say.”

“It’s not a phrase I like saying,” Jess shrugged. “The, uh, less standard stuff, though,” she sighed, “he tied me to the landing gear during that storm the other night.”

“What?” Poe asked disbelievingly. 

“Yeah. Left me out there for a while. I don’t know how long exactly. I got knocked out by a flying tree branch,” she said, indicating to the knot on the side of her head. “It’s also how this happened,” she gestured to the chapped skin on her cheeks. “And…I guess it had to be the next day…he had an old IT-O droid. Empire made.”

“I saw,” Poe nodded. “We’re bringing the shell back to the NRDF. Did he…”

“Use it? Yeah.”

Poe didn’t want to ask, but also couldn’t stop himself. “What did he have it do?”

“Kinda hard to say. I know it injected me with two different chemicals. One was a paralytic. I couldn’t move anything below my neck. And the other lowered my pain tolerance but kept me conscious. Then it scanned my body, looking for the weakest points.” She huffed an almost-laugh. “Definitely found my knee to be interesting.”

“What did—”

“It pushed needles into all of my joints. I…I think it might have injected something? I don’t know, I couldn’t see what it was doing, but it felt like it was forcing my joints apart—like something was expanding in between the bones. And it had this…thing. I don’t even know what to call it, but when it ran it against my skin, I felt like I was being electrocuted and skinned alive at the same time.” Jess shuddered. “And the whole time, it kept inflicting pain on my knee. Electric shocks, pressure, needle sticks, heat, cold—you name it. It was agonizing.”

“Jess—”

“I don’t want to tell you all of what it did to me. I don’t want to remember it.” 

“That’s ok, Jess,” Poe reached over and grabbed her hand. “You don’t have to remember it. You lived. You survived.”

“Yeah,” Jess said distantly. “That was this one other thing he did.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

Jess continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “He had this drug…it was a hallucinogenic of some kind. But it didn’t make new things happen. It made me relive memories. Conversations.”

“Like?”

“Like when Niv visited me in the med bay after I fell and cracked my head on the ground while working on that A-Wing.”

“That was over a year ago,” Poe furrowed his brow.

“I know. There were more recent ones, too. Like our conversation by the fire the other night. When you told me fatalism doesn’t suit me.”

“Strange.”

“Yeah. Wexley and Antilles featured, too. All-star cast, really.” 

“Was it just recent conversations?” 

Jess shook her head. “Some were years old. Like the ones with Teela and Yashi. And my mom.”

“Your mom?”

Jess nodded slowly. “Got to relive the last conversation I ever had with her—what she said to me right before she was sold. So that was…great.”

“Shit, Jess…”

I’m alright,” Jess promised. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will be,” Poe said. “But you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here.”

“I know,” Jess said quietly. She sighed. “Honestly, I’m just feeling kinda…adrift.”

“Adrift?” Poe repeated.

“Yeah. Disconnected or floating or something. It’s…” she hesitated. “It feels like I’m alone in the galaxy. Like I’m the only thing that’s real. And I know that I’m not, but…it’s…it’s just what I feel like whenever I’m reminded of that time in my life, you know? When I’m looking for an anchor.”

Poe nodded in understanding—he did know what it was like to be in search of a mooring. “Anything I can do to help you?”

Jess was quiet for a moment, considering his offer. “Will you tell me a secret?” she asked softly. She offered him a small smile as she brought her knees up to her chest and curled up on the copilot’s seat. Poe couldn’t help but notice again how young she looked, wrapped in his jacket and lit by the white-blue streaks of stars rushing past them.

“What kind of secret?” Poe asked.

“One you don’t tell anyone. One that will make me feel like I know you—that I’m connected to you. Anchored to someone real.”

“I’m an open book, Jess,” Poe grinned.

“Liar,” Jess smiled tiredly. “You have your secrets, I know you do. Even Golden Boys have their surprises.” 

Poe considered what to tell her for a moment. A few possibilities had come to mind, but ultimately, he decided to tell her the only secret he had that seemed like it might be on par with what she had shared with him. _Trust for trust,_ he thought. “You know that I was 23 when I graduated from the Academy, right?”

“Yeah,” Jess nodded.

“Do you know why I didn’t start at the Academy until I was 20?”

“I’ve heard theories.”

Poe laughed. “I can assure you, none of them are true. I _wish_ they were true.”

“You sure? I’ve heard some pretty good ones,” Jess raised her eyebrows.

“Like what?”

“Personal favorites include you trying to make a career as a musician or a holovid star or being the…what was the phrase… 'kept man’ of a dowager empress in the outer rim.”

“Those are your favorites?” Poe scoffed.

“That or that you fell in love and followed some Jedi paramour to a distant planet in the expanse, only for them to go dark-side and leave you with a broken heart. None of those are true?” she teased.

“No,” he replied emphatically. “Definitely not. Almost wish they were. They’re better than where I was.”

“So where were you?”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” He turned to face Jess.

Jess quirked an eyebrow and gave him an incredulous look. “Of course I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

Poe took a deep breath. “I was a spice runner.”

“WHAT?” Jess sat up straight and dropped her feet back to the floor. Her eyes stared deeply into Poe’s, looking for any sign of a lie.

“Yeah. Not my proudest moment.”

“You…Fleet Poster Boy…a spice runner?”

“I took the whole…teenage rebellion thing a little far when I was 16,” Poe waved his hand vaguely as if waving away his transgressions.

“A _little_?” Jess gaped.

***

“Like you said, even Poster Boys have their secrets,” Poe sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I was mad at my dad, hadn’t ever really dealt with my mom’s death, and wanted off of Yavin IV more than anything. I wanted adventure or to see the stars or some stupid and teenage thing like that. So, I ran away. Well, technically, I got recruited. I had just crashed my mom’s A-Wing and totally destroyed it. Dad bailed me out of jail and…we got in a fight. I ran away from him and ended up in a cantina. There was this group that was stuck on Yavin IV and they needed a pilot. And there I was,” Poe shrugged.

He took a deep breath and told her about Zorri and Zeva. About the other Spice Runners and Trune. He told Jess about Kes being poisoned and his promise to L’ulo to find his way back to them. A smile crossed his face as he told her about Tommasso taught him how to lightspeed skip and Babu Frick looking the other way when he stole the holographic disguise matrix. “I spent a little over two years with them before I had a crisis of conscience—and a near-death experience—and left. Went home and patched things up with dad, and then I went straight to the New Republic and applied to the Academy.”

***

“No way,” Jess smirked. “You’re trying to trick me.”

“I swear on every holy relic on every planet in the New Republic, this is a true story. Pretty sure I still have a price on my head on Kijimi. Not planning on going back and finding out, though.”

“You—a spice runner.” She leaned back in the chair and brought her knees up to her chest. “Who would have guessed?”

“No one, hopefully.”

“Does anyone know? I mean, outside of the people you ran for.”

“My dad does. And L’ulo. And I’m pretty sure they told Wedge and Norra. Nightmare scenario: Senator Leia Organa knows. And you, now.”

“Wedge and Norra?” Jess raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve known the Admiral and Commander since I was a kid.”

“And nightmare scenario is that Senator Organa knows?”

“She’s…she’s the one who set me straight.”

“Really?” Jess’s eyes lit up. “What did she say?”

“That’s the kicker. She wasn’t talking to me. I saw her debating on a holofeed. And it just…resonated. I felt conviction like I never had before. I hadn’t seen her in years—not since my mother died. But…she made sense when not much else did.”

Jess sat quietly, her stare distant. “Why did you tell me that? That’s…big.”

“No bigger than what you told me,” he replied. “Jess, while you’ve been asleep, I’ve been thinking about what you said to me, and I understand why you didn’t tell me. I do. It’s the same reason I didn’t tell you about running spice—the same reason I don’t tell _anyone_ about running spice. It’s sometimes easier to forget it if you don’t share it. But you’re my friend. I want you to be able to come to me with anything. To share anything with me. And that means I need to be willing to share anything with you, too. Because I trust you. You make me feel safe.”

Jess reached out for his hand. He offered it and she squeezed it gently. “Thanks. I trust you, too. I know I’m safe with you.”

“You don’t have to say that,” Poe said. “Just because I feel one thing doesn’t mean you have to feel it, too.”

“It’s true, though. Because when I’m with you…well, it’s the closest I’ve felt to home in a long time.”

The two sat quietly after Jess’s confession. Poe wondered how much of this vulnerability would stick around and how much would disappear when they got back to Hosnian Prime. He didn’t want to push Jess farther than she was willing to go, but he had to admit, he liked seeing what was behind her walls. It made him like her even more than he had before. And he liked that Jess felt at home with him—it might have been the best compliment he’d ever received.

“You think Keel can actually find Mattis’s family?” Jess asked, breaking the silence. “Find his home?” 

“I dunno. I hope so. But if they can’t, we’ll make sure he’s taken care of,” Poe promised.

“I think he’s from Darada,” Jess said, staring out at the blue glow of hyperspace.

“What makes you say that? You said he doesn’t remember where he’s from.”

“He doesn’t use contractions.”

“So what?”

Jess waved her hand, trying to come up with the words. “It’s an…um…idiosyncrasy unique to Darada. Children pick up on things like that from a very young age on all planets. Even if he doesn’t remember anything else, his use of language tells a story, and it says he’s from Darada.”

Poe laughed.

“What?” Jess asked defensively.

“I’m sorry. It’s not a bad thing. You’re just the only person I know who could use the word ‘idiosyncrasy’ hours after nearly dying,” he grinned at her. “And my only friend who knows enough about Xenolinguistics to identify that idiosyncrasy. I like that about you.” 

“It’s interesting,” Jess defended. “I love Xenolinguistics. Aside from actually piloting, it’s the best class at the Academy. Major Cartor is incredible--did you know she speaks 47 languages?”

Poe smiled. “I’m glad.”

Jess narrowed her eyes. “You’re being weird.”

“Sorry. Not trying to be.”

“What is it?”

“I’m just…I’m glad you’re still interested in things.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Poe hesitated. “I was scared of what we’d find when we got to you,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“I was scared that when we found you, you’d be different…that you’d have lost some part of your fire,” Poe said, “that you lost your interests in things and were just…vacant.”

“What made you think that would happen?” Jess asked.

“The way you were talking before we even saw Gloarten—it was like you’d already given up.”

“I’m sorry,” Jess said with a wince.

Poe gave a sad smile. “When I saw you…on your knees, blaster pressed to your head…I was terrified you’d given up and I was going to watch you die. But then I saw you sit up and challenge him and I knew you were still in there. And I knew that I had to help you however I could. After that, it’s kind of a blur until I was holding onto you. Feeling you alive in my arms…I can’t describe the relief I felt.”

“I think I kinda know what you’re talking about,” Jess said softly. “The relief, I mean. When I thought you’d died, when Gloarten had me in that cell again…I _was_ ready to give up. I didn’t think anyone would find me or even look for me. I didn’t think anyone would care or notice if I just disappeared. But then that kid had to be there, you know? And I couldn’t just leave Mattis alone. So I fought to keep him safe because, well, what else could I do? And then when I knew the NRDF was coming…I hoped it would be Muran…and then it turned out to be you. I thought I had to be dead, because how else could you be there with me? How else could you be real?” She smiled. “Imagine my surprise when we were both still alive at the end of it all.” 

Poe smiled back at her. “Imagine that."

Jess considered Poe for a moment. “You broke me, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Poe asked, concerned by what Jess meant.

“Before I knew you, I didn’t care about other people. Or if I did, I knew how to shut it down. And when I thought you…when you were gone, I tried to do that. I tried so hard to shut everything down and be numb to it all again. But everything kept reminding me of the NRDF. Of home. Of you. And then I saw this scrappy little _kid_ and knew I had to help him. I was in a kriffing cell and I promised that if I got out—if I was rescued, I would take him with me. How do you make a promise like that to a little kid when you don’t know if you’ll ever get out? But I couldn’t shut myself down enough to ignore him. And that’s because of you. I’m a better person than I was before and it’s entirely your fault.”

Poe grinned. “I’m ok with that,” he said softly. “You snuck up on me, too.”

“No way I made you a better person, Dameron,” Jess said quietly. “You were already too good.”

“Did you not pay attention to the whole ‘spice runner’ thing?” Poe asked.

Jess shrugged. “You left on your own.”

“You left the Hy’thor Group on your own,” Poe countered.

“Not the same.”

“Exactly the same.”

Jess shook her head. “No. Cause if the incident with the slaves hadn’t happened, I probably would have stayed. They were the first people who kept me around.”

Poe tried to school his face, but he knew Jess caught the expression.

“What was that about?” Jess asked.

“What was what?”

“You just made a face. Like a wince or something. What’s going on?”

Poe sighed. “I guess…I just felt a little jealous hearing you say that. That’s all.”

Jess raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Jealous? Of who? Yashi? Lompiach and his Hy'thor Group?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“ _Why?”_

“Because you trust them and—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jess interrupted him. “You think I trust them? Hell no. They’re pirates.”

“Well, yeah. But you were like, friends with them.”

“I only did three jobs with them and all of them were for mutual benefit. And then when I left, they didn’t try to stop me or find me. Poe, they don’t even know my first name.”

“You were comfortable around them.”

“I played a part around them. And I didn’t stay with them.”

“Yeah, but you said you don’t stay anywhere.”

“I stayed with you.”

Poe shook his head. “That’s not the same. You stayed with the NRDF because you had to. It was the NRDF or Megalox prison. Easy choice.”

Jess scoffed. “Please. It’s why I first came to the NRDF, but not why I stayed. Antilles was insistent that I was treated like any other cadet, which meant no extra monitoring or tracking, no additional restrictions, no nothing. If I wanted to go, I could have gone at any time. And I was pretty damn close to disappearing when Antilles introduced us.”

“What, just run off and join up with those pirates?”

“That’s your first assumption? I’d go be a pirate?”

“Well, with Ompiach dead…maybe? I mean, you trusted them enough for us to stay there.”

“I trusted them not to kill us. I wouldn’t trust them for anything else.”

“I didn’t claim them as friends. I claimed you.”

“Who claimed who doesn’t matter.”

Jess scoffed. “You’re not listening to me, Dameron: I stayed because of you. Not the NRDF, not the threat of prison— _you_.” 

And, well…huh. That was easily the last thing Poe had expected Jess to say. He froze. He hadn’t expected Jess to _ever_ say something like that.

“Surprised?” she asked.

Poe cleared his throat and tried to find his voice. “Very,” he managed.

“You shouldn’t be.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I should be,” Poe said.

“Dameron. Poe—I trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone in a very long time. Maybe ever. You are the reason I stayed. I would do anything for you. I was willing to die for you—do you get that?”

“I get that, but I don’t want you to die for me. I don’t want you to die at all,” Poe said. And while he hadn’t been planning on having this conversation right now, he figured it was better to get it over with than drag it out. “I especially don’t want you to die because you think your life is worth less than someone else’s. That you should sacrifice yourself.”

Jess opened her mouth to say something before she closed it again.

“Spit it out, Pava,” Poe said.

“I want you to know…about what I said earlier…I don’t want to die,” Jess said. “I just…I—”

“Don’t,” Poe said, putting his hand on hers. “I know. And I get it.”

“You do?”

“You think I don’t have the same feelings? That I wouldn’t give anything to make sure my squadron gets home at the end of the day?” Poe asked. “Jess, that’s part of why I would never leave you behind. Why I wouldn’t leave anyone behind.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Poe said. “That drive to get everyone home is what is going to make you a great squadron leader one day. But what I want you to know is that you don’t have to give up that desire to get everyone home in order to think that you’re worth someone else wanting you to make it home, too.”

Jess nodded jerkily in understanding. “Ok,” she said hesitantly. “I…I’ll…ok.”

Jess was staring straight ahead and sitting perfectly still, not even looking at Poe. Something about the stillness felt off to Poe, but he shrugged it off—he knew that she sometimes did that, especially when she was processing what he was saying that challenged one of her preconceived beliefs.

“Good,” Poe said. He turned back to the instrument panel. “We’ll be dropping out in just a few minutes. We’re almost home.”

Jess didn’t respond.

“Jess?” Poe asked, turning to look at his friend. Immediately, he knew that something was wrong.

Jess was sitting rigidly in her seat with her back arched and her head thrown back. Her jaw was clenched and her eyes kept rolling back in her head while her entire body was shaking and jerking stiffly.

 _Seizure_ , Poe realized and sprang into action. He carefully took Jess out of her seat and lowered her to the floor.

“No, no, no, Jess. Come on. We are so close. Home is right there. You’ve gotta stick with me,” Poe whispered, pillowing Jess’s head on his lap. “Come on, Jess…you’ve gotta fight. Just hang on a few minutes more.”

Jess didn’t respond.

“Muran! I need help!” Poe shouted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so...Merry Christmas? (Kinda sorry, but not really.)
> 
> This story is now officially longer than "Make a Martyr Out of Me". Color me surprised. I honestly expected it to be about 2/3rds the length, but then it kept getting more fleshed out and longer, and now we're here. 
> 
> Now that Yashi is out of this story, I'm curious: who have you mentally pictured for him? I was imagining John Cho (Sulu in the new Star Trek movies) as I wrote him. Also, Krownest is the ancestral home of Sabine Wren from Rebels, so it's a real Mandalorian planet in-universe. 
> 
> I liked getting to poke a little fun in this chapter at other FF tropes with the rumors about what Poe was up to before he joined the Academy. I've read some great stories with these tropes, but...they're tropes for a reason (I am also aware that I have very little room to criticize tropes—I do see what I'm doing.)
> 
> Also—in the previous chapter, did anyone recognize the Istabith from elsewhere in this series? 
> 
> Merry Christmas! Thank you for reading and commenting!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

Jess’s mind was ready to fight or flee before she was even fully awake. Her eyes shot open and tried to take in the dimly lit room, but it wouldn’t come into focus. The space was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Where she was didn’t matter, though, she knew she had to get out of there before someone came back and found her conscious. She tried to sit up, only to have pain explode all over her body.

A stifled cry escaped her lips as she curled forward into a ball as the wave of pain crashed over her. She forced herself to take a deep breath as she was trying to manage the pain and praying to any deity that was listening that she hadn’t been heard.

A dim light turned on to her right. _So much for not being caught_ , she thought.

“Whoa! Hang on there, Jess,” a familiar voice said. Gentle hands pushed her back down onto a soft bed. “I’ve got you. Take a deep breath…calm down. You’re ok.”

Jess scanned the room wildly as her eyes adjusted to the light. She desperately tried to identify her location before her gaze finally landed on the person pushing her back down.

“Poe,” she breathed and relaxed, letting him guide her back onto the mattress. 

“There you are,” he smiled gently. “Welcome back.”

Once her body and mind started to calm down, she was able to really take in her surroundings. The dimly lit room was warm and airy and smelled like antiseptic. A soft, rhythmic beeping sound met her ears.

 _I’m in a hospital,_ she realized. Through the window, Jess could see city lights and the night sky, streaked at regular intervals by spaceships entering and leaving atmosphere. It was all familiar: she knew that skyline but struggled to place it. The bed she was on was soft and comfortable—nothing here felt at all like the cell on the _Schrei_.

She was back.

“This is real, right?” she whispered, wanting to be sure. “I’m not imagining this?”

Poe held up her hand so she could see the remnants of her electric pink nail polish. “Yeah, Jess. This is very real,” he confirmed.

“What happened? Where am I? What time is it? How long have I been here?” Jess rattled off.

“Shh. Slow down. Right now, it’s about two in the morning. You’re in the hospital back on Hosnian Prime and you’ve been here for a little over two days. The doctors are trying to fix up your knee and treat all of your other injuries,” Poe explained softly. “What do you remember?”

Jess frowned. “I was talking to you in the cockpit and then…” she shook her head, “nothing. What happened?”

“Ok, that’s fine,” Poe nodded. “You had a seizure on the ship. That IT-O did a number on you—far more than I knew or could have done anything about en route. You were right—it injected something into your joints. I don’t know what exactly, but I know it’s designed to cause severe pain when you move.”

“Yeah, I think I’m feeling that now,” Jess muttered. “I remember the pain when the droid was there…but I don’t remember it after the droid was gone. Nothing like I felt when it was there. Or now, for that matter.”

Poe nodded. “The doctors said that might be the case. The way they explained it to me was that you were probably in such excruciating pain that your brain basically short-circuited so you didn’t feel it. Eventually, though, your body couldn’t cope anymore and that triggered the seizure. The doctors have kept you sedated because from what I understand, treatment isn’t exactly comfortable.” He could see the worry in her eyes before she said anything. “But don’t worry, I’ve been here the whole time,” Poe promised. “I’m pretty sure I’m driving your doctor insane, I’ve barely left the room. You’re good, Jess. You’re ok.”

“I’m home,” Jess whispered. “And you’re still here.”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Poe repeated.

“You are.” She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down.

“Go back to sleep, Jess. We’ll talk more in the morning,” Poe said soothingly.

“Ok.” Her eyes started to slide closed again before she opened them wide, forcing herself to wake back up. “Wait, what happened to Mattis? Is he here? Is he ok?”

“Shh,” Poe soothed and stroked Jess’s hair. “He’s fine. Muran brought him to Keel at The Return Project as soon as we landed. They got him checked out and got him the care he needed: the chip's been removed, the tattoo's taken care of, and he’s been given medical attention, clothes, and food. It’s all taken care of. No surprise, but he’s been regularly drugged for a while now. Memory suppressants. Keel said that slavers will use memory suppressants to keep slaves—especially younger slaves—docile and compliant. They said that the thought process is that when a slave can’t remember their life from before, they don’t dream of escape as much,” Poe scoffed. “Keel said there’s not much they can do aside from letting the drugs work their way out of his system naturally. But they’re fading pretty fast and he’s remembering more about before he was kidnapped. He’s also showing quite the personality. You’ll like him.”

Jess smiled tiredly. “So he’s gonna be ok?”

“He’s gonna be more than that, J. He’s gonna be great. Keel’s even found his family and his parents will be arriving to pick him up soon,” Poe chuckled. “You were right: he’s from Darada. He was taken about two years ago. His parents have been searching for him.”

Jess started shaking as tears streamed down her face.

“Jess? Jess, what is it? Do I need to get a doctor?” Poe asked, his brow furrowed in concern. Jess saw him look over her body for any apparent injury or hurt.

“No,” Jess gasped and shook her head. “No. I’m just…relieved. He can go home.”

“Yeah, Jess—he’s gonna go home because of you. You did it—you brought him home.”

“Where is he now?”

“Keel didn’t want to put him in a group home, so Muran’s looking out for him tonight. I think he’s gonna miss the kid when his parents take him home.”

Jess nodded and swallowed thickly. “And Gloarten’s dead, right? He can’t do this to another kid?”

“He’s gone, Jess,” Poe confirmed. He sat on the edge of her bed and continued to run his fingers through her hair. “Arana and Kun are on their way to Gloarten’s Compound with a squadron of New Republic Ground Forces. They should be arriving right at sunrise. They’re going to arrest anyone who’s still on Gloarten’s payroll and seize any assets there. And the slaves that are there will be brought back here and Keel and their group will help get them home or will help them start a new life. Whatever terror Gloarten caused—it’s over.”

Jess nodded and struggled to get her breathing back under control. 

“Open your eyes, Jess. Look at me, yeah? Ok, now breathe with me, just like you did with Muran,” Poe’s voice interrupted her downward spiral. “In for four…then hold for seven…then out for eight.”

Jess opened her eyes and held Poe’s gaze as she copied his breathing. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy as her body fell back towards sleep. She tried to force her eyes open, but couldn’t sustain it.

“Sleep, Jess,” Poe said quietly. “You’re safe.”

She closed her eyes and felt sleep starting to drag her under. Poe took his hand away from her hair, but before he could retreat too far, Jess grabbed his hand. “Stay?” she asked quietly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.

Jess cracked an eye open. “Where?” she asked.

Poe nodded to the chair by the bed. “Where I’ve been the whole time.”

Jess frowned. “You don’t have to—”

“Stay? I told you I would.”

“Stay in a chair,” Jess finished. “It’s a big bed. Bigger than the berth on the ship at least.”

Poe smiled. “Scoot over.”

Jess slid over, making room for Poe. He climbed onto the bed next to her and wrapped an arm around her.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered.

“I know.” Jess let her eyes slide closed and she fell back asleep.

* * *

Poe was already awake the next morning when the doctor came in. The lanky, grey-skinned Pau’an looked at him with an unreadable expression. She turned her dark eyes down at the datapad attached to Jess’s bed.

“Um…hi, Doctor…sorry, I’ll just—”

“You’re fine, Commander Dameron,” the doctor said. “Cadet Pava’s heart rate was steady from 02:17 until now, which I suspect is when you joined her?”

“Yeah, about. She woke up and was pretty freaked out, so I—“ Poe rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll get out of your way.”

Jess woke up as Poe shifted away from her.

“Poe?” Jess asked groggily.

“Morning,” he greeted as he sat down on the arm of his chair. “Your doctor is here. She wants to check you out.”

Jess looked over at the Pau’an. “Hi,” Jess yawned. “Sorry, who are you?”

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Ms. Pava. I’m Doctor Rentha, I’ve been overseeing your care since you arrived a few days ago. It’s good to see you awake.”

“Good to be awake,” Jess said and tried to push herself upright. Poe stepped closer to help her. “I think Poe said that the IT-O did something to me?” She turned to Poe. “Last night? Or was that a dream?”

“That was real,” Poe said, taking her hand. “I’ll let Dr. Rentha explain what happened.”

The doctor nodded solemnly, her sunken dark eyes meeting Jess’s. “The Empire had thousands of chemical drugs produced for use by IT-O units. Their arsenal of torture devices was extensive and we’re still learning about new ones every time a surviving IT-O is found. The one used on you is one we hadn’t seen before. Since you’re the first one we’ve seen it presented in, we’re calling it JP-14.”

“Fantastic,” Jess muttered, “I have a torture drug named after me.” Poe squeezed her hand.

“Just for research purposes,” the doctor assured her.

“Treatable?” Poe asked.

“It took some time, but yes. We neutralized the chemical and your joints should be feeling back to normal by the end of the week.”

“Including my knee?” Jess asked hopefully.

“Unfortunately, no. Your knee is a bit more complicated,” Dr. Rentha said. “The damage was significant.”

“Am I gonna fly again?” Jess asked.

The Pau’an tilted her head and studied Jess. “You’re more concerned about flying than walking?”

“Yes,” Jess answered immediately. “Doc—will I fly again?”

“With proper treatment and care, yes, you will fly _and walk_ again,” Dr. Rentha said. “It’s going to require a bacta immersion first to get the swelling down and for us to get better imaging of what’s going on in there. I’m anticipating we’ll need to do surgery to repair some tendons. And even after that, you’ll be wearing a brace for a while—up to three months. I’d guess the soonest you can get back in a cockpit is ten weeks, but it could be longer. That timeline and how successful the surgery and other treatments are will come down to you, though. If you want to fly again—and if you want to walk without a limp—you’ll need to do the physio exercises assigned, wear your brace correctly and regularly, not push too far too fast, and follow all of the rules we give you. You do all that, your knee should be good as new.”

“Absolutely,” Jess said with a nod. “I’ll be a model patient—whatever it takes to get back into a cockpit.”

The doctor chuckled. “You pilots are all the same. Now, we’ve held off on a bacta immersion until we knew that the treatment for the ITT-O drug was effective, but I’d like to schedule you for one this morning. We’ll give you a sedative and then, based on the severity of your injuries, my team and I have determined that your optimum bacta treatment duration will be a 90-minute immersion. Have you ever had a negative reaction to bacta?”

“No,” Jess said. “I’ve never done a full immersion, though. Is the sedative necessary?”

“Technically no, but…” the doctor looked to Poe. “Perhaps another human could explain it better.”

“But you’ll want it,” Poe told her. “Bacta is slimy and if you’re conscious for it, a full immersion kind of feels like you’re drowning or being swallowed alive. Trust me, you want the sedative.” Jess made a face that made Poe laugh. “Yeah, exactly. And the sedative doesn’t knock you out, either. It’s more like a medically induced meditative state.”

“Most humanoid lifeforms find the viscosity of bacta to be unpleasant. As the Commander explained, while it is not necessary, we highly recommend it,” Dr. Rentha said. “But if you are adamantly against it, we won’t administer it without your consent.”

“Consent,” Jess huffed. “That’s not a word Gloarten would use. I’m definitely home. Alright, I’ll take the sedative. When do we go?”

Dr. Rentha looked down at her datapad and tapped it a few times with her long, claw-like fingers. “There is an opening in twenty minutes. That will be just enough time to get you to the treatment room, changed, and the sedative administered. Commander Dameron, due to the nature of a bacta immersion—”

“I’m not allowed in the room. I know the drill,” Poe said. “Can I stay with her until the sedative sets in?”

“Of course. And then you are welcome to wait in here until we return. Though she will likely sleep until the afternoon if you have any business to see to,” the doctor told him.

“I’ll be here,” Poe said firmly.

“Very well. Cadet Pava, I’ll send a nurse with a hoverchair and we’ll get you on the way to being back to feeling normal,” Dr. Rentha said. “I’ll see you there.”

“Alright,” Jess nodded as the doctor left the room. She turned to look at Poe. “You promise this doesn’t suck?”

“I mean, it’s not my idea of _fun,_ but it’s better than being hurt,” Poe said. “And with the sedative, it’s fine. Really.”

“Ok,” Jess sighed. Poe could see that her nerves were on edge. “Ok.”

“I wouldn’t let you do it if it would hurt you,” Poe said. “It won’t fix everything, but it will make you feel ten times better than you do now: clear up a lot of those scrapes and bruises, soothe that windburn on your face.”

“I know,” Jess said. “I’m just…not so keen on getting knocked out again.”

“Not knocked out. More like…really drunk,” Poe grinned. “When you’re in the tank, it’s kinda peaceful and relaxing. Seastriker called it meditative once, but he’s from Gatalenta, so I’d take that with a grain of salt. He calls a lot of things meditative. And once you get out, just think of me as your sober friend who’s getting you home from the bar.”

Jess smiled weakly. “You don’t have to stay. If you have something else you want to do—”

“I want to be here for you,” Poe cut her off. “And I have my datapad. I can do any work I need to from it.”

“Alright,” Jess agreed.

A nurse walked in with a hoverchair. “All ready, Cadet Pava?” she asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Jess said. Poe helped her sit up and transfer to the hoverchair.

Poe followed Jess and the nurse down the hall to a bacta treatment suite. The nurse helped Jess change into the sterile clothes for the bacta tank and sat her back down on the hoverchair before she produced an injection pen. Jess flinched away from it. Poe hated seeing her flinch away from needles. As a member of the NRDF, she’d been inoculated against literally hundreds of viruses and illnesses, but now a single needle scared her.

“Hey, it’s ok,” Poe said, taking her hand. “It’s just the sedative.”

Jess nodded and held her arm out for the nurse, but kept her eyes on Poe’s. The moment the sedative hit her system, Poe could see its effects on Jess: her eyes became unfocused and glassy and the tension she’d been holding in her shoulders and around her eyes began to fade. 

“Commander Dameron, it’s time,” Dr. Rentha said. 

“Right away, Doc,” Poe said. He knelt so he was eye to eye with Jess. “I’ll see you when you get back to your room.” He winked at Jess as the nurse and Dr. Rentha took her into the treatment suite.

Poe walked back to Jess’s patient room and dropped back into his chair. This wasn’t the first bedside Poe had sat by, but this time, he had managed to get one of the interns to let him into a VIP Lounge to steal one of the exclusive plush chairs housed there. Sure, he’d shamelessly flirted his way into the VIP area, but now that he had the chair in Jess’s room, no one had said anything about it. 

Poe powered up his datapad and began working his way through his messages. He hadn’t been idle during his time by Jess’s bedside and there were numerous communications to read and respond to. Commander Ravik had replied to his strongly worded message about the inadequate maintenance and emergency bags in the training ships with a promise to improve their quality. Keel had sent an update on Mattis’s status and let Poe know that the boy’s parents were due to arrive around noon. His own (edited) report from their failed training mission had been accepted without the need for additional information by Command. They wanted to let him know that, based on his recommendation, a survey team would be sent to investigate the remnants of the moon in the Mieru'kar sector within the next week. Additionally, both he and Pava were to be commended for their excellent representation of the NRDF. And from halfway across the galaxy, Kun and Arana had sent an update that they had cleared Gloarten’s compound and were returning with ten freed slaves.

Poe forwarded Kun’s report to Keel so they could start preparing for the new arrivals and continued through the rest of the “ATTN: ALL” messages that never seemed to end. He responded to the ones needing attention, deleted others, forwarded some to his team, and flagged others for follow up. 

By the time his inbox was cleared, two hours had passed and the nurse was coming through the door to bring Jess back to her room. Jess appeared to be almost asleep in the hoverchair; it wasn’t an uncommon response to a bacta immersion.

“How’d it go?” Poe asked.

“It went well,” the nurse said, helping Jess back into her bed. “The doctor did some scans on her knee once the treatment was completed. We’ll see how she recovers, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s given another shorter immersion in a day or so. Just to make sure everything’s still healing up how we want.”

“Thanks,” Poe said, stepping closer to Jess’s bed. He reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The windburn on her face was mostly gone and the bruises and scratches had faded significantly, leaving behind only faint patches of green and yellow skin and thin pink lines. Poe knew from personal experience that a second immersion would make most of those fade to nothing.

Jess opened her eyes and looked up at Poe.

“You waited,” she said tiredly.

“Told you I would,” he said. “And I have good news.”

“Yeah?”

“Kun and Arana took out the compound. They rescued all of Gloarten’s slaves and are bringing them back to the Return Project. Arana’s message said that they blew the whole thing up—I thought you’d like to know that.”

Jess smiled. “Good. That is good news.”

“Sleep,” Poe murmured. “We’ll see what the doctor says when you wake up.”

“Sleep sounds really nice,” Jess yawned and stretched before she closed her eyes, her hand loosely wrapped around Poe’s wrist. Poe turned his hand over and interlaced their fingers. He reached back with his foot and hooked his ankle around the chair, pulling it closer and sitting down. With his free hand, he turned the datapad back on and opened a holonovel, content to stay right by his friend’s side for as long as she needed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise--we're at 18 chapters plus an epilogue now. When this chapter hit 10,000 words, I knew it needed to be split, so that's adding an extra chapter.
> 
> We've passed the hurt part of this story for Jess and we're now onto the comfort/healing/fluff part. She's safe and I'm not gonna mess with her anymore in this story (no promises about the next one). 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

“Cadet Pava, how are you feeling?” Dr. Rentha asked as she entered the room. Poe thought she moved like she was gliding over the floor rather than walking on it.

“Like I’m still floating,” Jess responded. She’d slept for a few hours after the bacta treatment, but had woken up for second meal and was still awake for the Doctor’s visit.

“The nurse said you did some scans?” Poe asked.

“We’re still waiting on results. I’m here to see how you responded to the bacta immersion,” she said. The tall grey woman stepped closer to Jess. “Commander.”

“Of course.” Poe took the implied order and stepped back.

“Any pain?” the doctor asked.

“Nothing too bad. Except for my knee—that still hurts.”

“That is to be expected,” the Pau’an said. “I want to do some mobility checks on you. Can you bend your uninjured knee for me?”

Poe sat back and watched as Jess followed the doctor’s instructions—moving her arms and good leg, wiggling her fingers and toes, stretching and twisting her torso, and testing her responses and reflexes. True to her word, Jess was being a model patient.

“Well, Cadet, I think you’re in better shape than any of us expected you’d be,” Dr. Rentha said. “Once we get the results for your scans, we’ll come up with a treatment plan for that knee, see when we can get you back in the air. Seeing how little the bacta affected it, I’m almost certain we’ll need to do surgery and then another bacta immersion post-op, but I think you’re officially on the mend.”

“That’s really good to hear,” Jess said with a small smile. “Thanks, Doc.”

“I’ll be back with the results. Do you need anything before I go?”

Jess shook her head. “I think I’m good. Poe can help with anything else.”

“Very well,” the tall doctor nodded and left the room.

“That’s great news, Jess!” Poe said. “You’ll be out of here before you know it.”

“I hope so,” Jess said and ran her hand through her hair. “I don’t want to be confined to a room or the ground any longer than I have to be.”

“You’re not there anymore, Jess,” Poe said, trying to reassure her. “You’re home.”

“I know I’m not there, damn it. I know I’m home,” Jess said, her tone sharper than usual. Poe sat back, surprised by her harshness. She sighed. “Kriff. I’m fine, Poe, I promise. I just…I don’t want to stay here.” 

Poe frowned. He knew something was bothering her: that didn’t sound like Jess. “Jess, what—"

A knock at the door interrupted them. They both looked up to see Muran in the doorway.

“Hey, Poe. Hey, Jess,” he greeted. “Glad to see you upright.” 

“Hey Muran,” Jess said with a forced smile. Poe didn’t comment on it. “How’s my second favorite pilot?”

“Second favorite? I’m hurt,” Muran joked.

“Dameron currently has first place. You’re in second only by a fraction, though, so there’s hope for you to move up in the rankings,” Jess replied with a sly smirk.

“Eh. There are worst people to be second to,” Muran shrugged.

“What’re you doing here?” Poe asked, unable to hide his happiness at seeing the man. “Miss me?”

“Well, yes, but that’s not why I’m here. Jess, you game for some visitors?” Muran asked.

“Who?” Jess asked.

Muran grinned and stepped to the side.

“Jess!” Mattis said brightly, running into the room.

“Him,” Muran smirked.

“Hey buddy,” Jess said as she pushed herself up.

“You got it?” Poe asked.

“I’m fine,” she told him, her voice tight. “Come on over, Mattis.”

The young boy bounded up to the side of her bed, acting much more like a nine-year-old than he had on Gloarten’s ship. Poe lifted him up to sit next to Jess on the mattress. Behind him were two adults who Jess assumed were his parents.

“This is Warn and Lura, Mattis’s parents,” Muran introduced them. “They arrived from Darada a few hours ago. This is Poe Dameron and Jessika Pava.”

“See, Jess? I told you. That is the woman from my memories. Dark wavy hair—just like mine! She is my mother. And that is my father with her. They said they have been looking for me and that you found me for them! You were right—they do still want me,” Mattis chattered quickly. Being back with his parents and the lack of drugs in his system made his personality much more evident. Jess smiled: he was a kid again.

“I see them, buddy,” Jess said. “I’m glad you found them.”

“Captain Muran tells us that you helped save our son,” Lura said. Poe couldn’t help notice the resemblance between Lura and Mattis. Mattis’s bright green eyes, though, came from his father.

“I don’t know about that,” Jess said. “I was pretty useless, seeing as I was locked in a cell.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Poe said. “We wouldn’t have known to look for him if she hadn’t promised him that she wouldn’t let him be left behind.”

“Thank you,” Warn said, wrapping an arm around his wife. “We have been looking for him for more than two years. We thought we would never see our son again.”

“I’m just glad we could bring him home. And that Keel found you so quickly,” Jess said.

“Jessika, thank you,” Lura said, holding Jess’s gaze. Her emphasis on the words demanded Jess’s attention and stilled the injured pilot. “I cannot tell you what his return means for us. I do not think that you can fully understand this until you have a child of your own, but…by bringing Mattis back to us, you have given us back our lives. You have returned our hope.”

“You’re welcome,” Jess said sincerely. “It was my honor to help him. I’m glad he’s going back home with you.”

“Here,” Mattis said. Jess’s ID Tags dangled from his outstretched hand.

Jess started to reach for them and then stopped. “You know what, bud? You can keep them. For luck,” she said. “I’ll get some new ones.”

Mattis’s eyes grew wide. “Really?”

“Really,” Jess confirmed. Mattis grinned and slipped the tags around his neck.

“When I join the NRDF, I will get some with _my_ name on them!” he told her.

“You sure will, buddy,” Jess grinned. “But you have so many choices ahead of you. Whatever you do, you’re gonna be great.”

Poe’s datapad pinged. He glanced at it and looked back at Jess. “It’s Command. You good if I step out into the hallway for a few minutes?”

Jess nodded. “I’m fine.”

“I’ll be right outside the door. Back before you know I’m gone,” Poe smiled. “Shout if you need something.” 

Jess nodded again and turned back to Mattis and his parents as Poe stepped out of the room.

“Dameron.”

Poe turned to see Admiral Wedge Antilles approaching. He straightened his spine and saluted. “Sir.”

“At ease, Poe,” Antilles said, waving him off. Poe relaxed marginally. “Who’s the boy?” Antilles nodded towards the observation window.

“Mattis. He was a slave of Gloarten’s and when we rescued Pava, she made sure we took him with us, too.”

“That sounds like Pava,” Antilles said fondly.

“What can I do for you, Antilles?” Poe asked.

“I wanted to talk to you about your official report concerning what happened on Ibanjji.”

“What about it?” Poe asked innocently.

“I read it,” Antilles said dryly.

“And is there a problem?” Poe feigned ignorance. “I received a message earlier today that there was no need for any additional details.”

Antilles raised an eyebrow. “I know an edited report when I read one,” he said shrewdly. Poe opened his mouth to protest, but Antilles held up his hand to stop him and smiled. “Don’t worry, Dameron, I’ve doctored plenty of them in my time. So have your parents. And maybe Command as a whole doesn’t want further information, but I would appreciate it if you gave me the unedited version. Off the record, of course.”

Poe huffed a laugh. “Um…sure.”

Antilles listened patiently as Poe filled in the gaps from his report—the pirates, falsifying their location, Jess actively choosing to stay with Gloarten in an attempt to save Poe’s life, the assault on the _Schrei._ He hesitated before he told Antilles anything about what Jess had said during their fight on their way home. Finally, he decided to tell the older pilot about what Jess had told him: that she was willing to fly into a firefight and make choices that would get everyone else home at the cost of herself.

“You know, don’t you?” Antilles asked suddenly.

Poe stopped. “Know what?”

“About her past.”

Poe nodded. “Yeah. She told me everything.”

“Hmm,” Antilles nodded. “Good. I’m glad she told you.”

“Yeah…I mean, I’m glad she told me, but…I don’t know how to help her,” Poe admitted. “She doesn’t see how amazing she is. She’s such a good person and an incredible pilot, but she doesn’t think she’s worth anything, and…” he sighed and looked to Antilles for help. “I’m in over my head, Wedge.” 

“No one ever sees themselves very clearly, Poe,” Antilles said. “That’s why we need others to remind us of who we are. Jess hasn’t had a lot of people reminding her over the years, so it’s new for her. You being there for her…that’s enough for now. The rest is going to take time.”

“I’ve got time,” Poe said softly. “She’s back on Hosnian Prime, back with the NRDF, and the doctors can treat her…she’s here and she’s alive and she’s safe,” he could hear the relief in his own voice. “I have time.”

“How’s she doing now?” Antilles asked, gesturing through the observation window at Jess. “Responding to treatment alright?”

Poe looked through the window. Jess was sitting up and smiling, talking to Mattis and his parents. Faint bruises could still be seen on her skin, but overall, she looked almost normal—if you ignored the haunted look in her eyes.

“It’s hard to say,” Poe said. “She’s not the most forthcoming on her wellbeing.”

“She never has been,” Antilles agreed.

“The doctor seems pleased, though, so I think that’s a good sign,” Poe added.

“Who’s treating her?”

“A Pau’an I haven’t met before—Dr. Rentha. I was hoping for Kalonia, but they said she isn’t here anymore.”

“Kalonia has been reassigned,” Antilles told him. Poe knew what that meant: _Reassigned_ was the polite thing people said when talking about anyone who had followed Leia Organa off Hosnian Prime to make a stand against the remnants of the Empire. Antilles’s stepson Snap had been ‘ _reassigned’_ , too. “But Rentha is a great physician. She’s nearly 500 years old and has been practicing medicine for almost as long. Pava is in good hands.”

“I know. I just…I know Kalonia. She…she treated Mom, you know. I trust her.”

“I understand, Poe,” Antilles nodded slowly. He cleared his throat. “I saw what you brought back,” he said, changing the subject. “Do you think it was used on her?”

“The IT-O Unit? I know it was,” Poe said without hesitation. “Traces of four different drugs were found in her system as well as evidence of torture.”

“And?”

“And I saw her, how injured she was after he’d had her for less than three days. Plus, she told me.”

Antilles sighed. “I saw the medical report but didn’t make it down here before the bacta treatment. How bad was she?”

“Real bad,” Poe replied. “Even with bacta treatments, it’ll be a while before her knee is back to normal. Her doc says she’ll likely have to wear a brace on it for at least three months.”

“She’s young. It’ll heal,” Antilles said confidently.

“Her knee will, yeah. But do you think _she_ will?” Poe asked, finally voicing the concerns he’d had since he’d seen Jess kneeling in front of Gloarten with defeat in her eyes. “I’m worried about what will happen if she doesn’t get better up here and she can’t fly anymore,” he said, tapping the side of his head.

“What makes you think she won’t get better?” Antilles asked.

“Because some pilots who don’t have a fraction of the trauma in their background that she does wouldn’t be cleared to fly after something like this. What if it’s too much and she’s not deemed well enough to fly?”

“I know you’re worried about her, but Pava’s a lot more resilient than you’re giving her credit for, and you know that. She’s tough and while this might have knocked her for six, I highly doubt this is what keeps her down for the count,” Antilles said.

Poe nodded. “You’re right. I’m…I’m just worried about her.”

“I’m glad. Someone should be.” Antilles considered Poe. “Did your mom and dad ever tell you that I was captured and tortured by the Empire?”

Poe frowned. “No.”

“It was after the second Death Star. Your folks might have already retired at that point—that whole period of time gets a little…wonky in my memory. Anyway, I was on a reconnaissance mission and got caught. The Empire held me captive on Akiva, where they tortured me and messed up my leg pretty good.”

“I had no idea.”

“Yeah. Norra and Snap Wexley are the ones who rescued me. After that, I was grounded for months. The doctors didn’t know when or _if_ I’d fly again. But I did.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better about her chances?” Poe asked.

“I’m just telling you it’s not impossible. Plus, I was older then than she is now. And I didn’t have Rentha as my doc. _And_ …I didn’t have you in my corner.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m telling you because I was able to get back in a cockpit. It took time and it wasn’t easy, but I did it. And she can, too. It’ll be a long road, but she has a lot going for her, including you. She’ll need your support throughout the process,” Antilles said.

“Of course,” Poe nodded.

“Good,” Antilles said. “How are you doing? With, well, all of this?”

“I’m fin…I don’t know,” Poe admitted. “Physically, I’m fine. Few bruises, but nothing major. If you’re asking about how I’m doing mentally, though…”

“You got scared, didn’t you?”

Poe nodded. “First time I thought I might lose someone under my command.”

“I hope it never happens, Poe. But…in your career field—”

“It’s likely, I know,” Poe said. “But it was Jess.”

“And Jess is different.”

“Yeah. Losing Jess would be different,” Poe sighed. “But she shouldn’t be different, right?” he said quickly. “I should think of everyone under my command the same. The thought of losing any of them should carry the same weight, shouldn’t it?”

“Poe, we all have people we’re closer to, people it’s different to lose,” Antilles said, easing his concerns. “I know I have mine. It’s OK that Jess is different. Good, even. Just…don’t tell the rest of your squad.” 

Poe nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Is there something else that’s bothering you?” Antilles asked.

Poe sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He’d already told Antilles more than he’d planned to, he might as well get the rest of it out. “Yeah. I don’t know what to do with what she said to me on the ship about not being worth someone coming after her. I tried to tell her differently, but, man, I don’t know if I got through to her or if made any sense. Which makes me wonder: am I really doing any good for her? Cause it feels like I might be failing her even more.”

“You went back for her. I know you’re doing good,” Antilles said. “Have you seen a psytech yet?”

“No.”

“It’s standard protocol after a mission like this.”

“One that gets all kriffed up? Yeah, I know.”

“So are you gonna make that appointment?”

“Is that an order?” Poe asked.

Antilles raised an eyebrow. “Does it need to be?”

Poe shook his head. “No, Sir. I’ll take care of it.”

“Good.”

“She’s not talking to me right now,” Poe said. He paused—he hadn’t meant to say it, but it came out anyway.

Antilles frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, she’ll say things to me, like she’s answering questions and stuff, but…two weeks ago, we could talk about anything for hours. Now, I know everything about her and she won’t talk to me. And what she does say feels abrasive. It’s like back when we first met and it’s making me nervous,” Poe admitted. “And she has this…edge now. It’s different than when we first met. I haven’t experienced it before. Her tone, her attitude, her physical stance all have a sharpness that I don’t remember her having when we left on that damn training run eight days ago.”

“You _left_ eight days ago. This is your third day back and she’s only been awake for, what, six hours? And of those eight days, she spent two and a half of them being tortured and thinking you were dead and she was a slave again. I think she’s doing pretty well,” Antilles reasoned.

“But it’s me,” Poe said. “I thought we were past this.”

“Poe, this isn’t about you. It’s a defense mechanism. She’s trying to protect herself and process what happened to her. It’s gonna take time for her to find her normal again. Just, be patient and keep trying to talk to her. She’s one of the toughest people I know, she’ll bounce back,” Antilles said.

“Cognitively, I know that. But it doesn’t _feel_ like that. Does that make sense?” Poe asked. He was no longer talking to his commanding officer, he was talking to one of his parents’ oldest friends.

“I understand, Poe,” Antilles said. “Look in there,” he said, gesturing to the window. “What do you see?”

“Jess and Muran and Mattis and his parents, all talking to each other.”

“You see your friends. One of whom was captured and tortured, but she still made sure that that child was saved and reunited with his parents. There was no benefit to her to get that child out of there, no reward for saving him. She didn’t have to send that Mandalorian back into the ship to find him. But she did. She chose kindness in the face of terror. And we both know Jessika Pava to be deeply kind. If you need any further proof that the Jess you have grown to know is still in there, look no further. Thank the Force, thank the Universe, thank the fact that she’s a stubborn SOB, thank whatever you believe in—not only is she alive, she’s still here. Hear that, Poe? She's alive.”

“Jessika Pava is alive. If that’s not a miracle in four words, I don’t know what is.” Poe smiled. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Antilles hesitated before saying, “She’ll be just fine, Poe. I know it. But I think she’d probably heal faster if she could get away from here for a little while. Go home. Be with family.”

Poe shot Antilles an incredulous look. “I know that you know that ‘going home’ is not a possibility. You’re not going to go _suggest_ that to her, are you?”

“I know her situation, Poe,” Antilles said calmly. “I know she can’t go to her parents or her home. But I wasn’t thinking Dandoran. I was thinking…maybe she could go to Yavin IV.”

Poe laughed. “You want me to take her to _my_ home.”

“Yes. She’s going to get at least two weeks of time off for her knee, likely more, and you have quite the bank of time off accumulated,” Antilles said. “That Yavin moon would be a good change of pace for her—let her truly recuperate. Kes and L’ulo would be good for her. And I think that after this week, you could use some face time with your dad, too.”

“Oh really?” Poe said incredulously.

Antilles smiled. “It’s just a suggestion. But if you decide that you want to go, your time is already approved.” The admiral put his hand on Poe’s shoulder. “Think about it.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Poe said.

“Think she’d be up for a visit from me?” Antilles asked.

Poe grinned. “I think she’d love that. It’ll be good for her to see someone who cares about her.”

Antilles’s datapad pinged. He looked down and frowned. “It’s from Snap. I’ve gotta take care of this. I’ll be back within the hour.”

“I’ll make sure she’s still here,” Poe joked.

The Admiral chuckled. “Not funny. Knowing her, she might actually try to escape the hospital. I’ll be back soon,” he said and turned down the hallway.

* * *

Mattis and his parents left once Poe returned. Lura and Warn thanked her again and said their goodbyes. They told her that they would keep in touch and apologized profusely for leaving so soon after meeting her, but they wanted to get their son home. Jess understood that. Muran offered to take them to the flight terminal and then promised Jess he’d come back by soon. She gave Mattis a final hug and watched him disappear out the door with his mom and dad. Muran grabbed Poe’s hand and squeezed it on his way out the door.

 _That’s interesting,_ Jess thought, watching the interaction between the two pilots, but she didn’t comment on it. Before Ibanjji, she would have asked about it, maybe even teased Poe a little about Muran grabbing his hand, but now…she couldn’t figure out how to say anything to Poe. The words were there, but there was a disconnect in getting them from her mind to her voice.

Once Muran had left the room, Jess realized that for the first time since she had woken up in the hospital, she and Poe were completely alone while she was awake. And as much as she hated to admit it, their dynamic felt off. Weird, even. Neither of them said anything, leaving them to sit in uncomfortable silence.

“They seem nice,” Poe said, trying to start a conversation. “Mattis’s parents, I mean.”

Jess wanted to respond, but the words wouldn’t come out. She was so angry—she’d been back with Gloarten for less than 60 hours, but it had affected her more than she thought it would. It felt like all of the progress she’d made towards being a real person was gone. She might as well have been sixteen again, standing alone in a spaceport on Raxus without a clue of what to do next.

Her time on the _Schrei_ had left a mark on her, she knew. And not just the physical kind. But that time had also taken something away from her. She could feel it deep in her soul. Jess was well enough aware of herself to know that she hadn’t ever been the most talkative person in the galaxy, but she and Poe had always had an easy flow of conversation, even when they’d first met. That ease was now missing. After telling him everything about her past, it seemed like she’d forgotten how to just talk to him. Ever since they’d gotten back, she’d been able to speak to him and answer questions, but she hadn’t been able to _talk_ with him.

“Yeah, they do,” Jess replied. She realized she’d responded far too late after the words had left her mouth.

Poe furrowed his brow. “Jess, what’s going on?”

Jess hesitated. She felt like Poe’s dark eyes were seeing into her soul. “It’s nothing,” she muttered.

“Jess—"

“Cadet Pava,” Dr. Rentha said as she entered the room. “How are you feeling?”

Jess had never been so relieved to see a doctor. She immediately hated that she felt relieved that she didn’t have to talk to Poe, but she couldn’t help it.

“Hey Doc,” Jess greeted, looking away from Poe. She could feel his gaze still on her face. “Tell me you’ve got good news.”

The Pau’an smiled. “It _is_ good news, but it’s probably not the news you want to hear. The scans gave us the better imaging of your knee we needed and we will indeed need to do the surgery. The good news is that we can fix it. It’s a fairly simple procedure, but it will take you off your feet for a while. I’m putting in my recommendation for three weeks of mandatory medical leave.”

“Three _weeks_?” Jess asked. “Do I have to stay here for that time?” The last thing she wanted was to be confined in a room for three weeks.

“As long as there aren’t any complications with the surgery, I don’t see any reason that you’d need to stay longer than 48 hours post-operation,” Dr. Rentha said. “We’ll do one more post-surgery bacta treatment and 48 hours observation and then you should be just fine to recuperate at home. We can even arrange for transportation to your home planet if you’d like.”

From the corner of her eye, Jess saw Poe’s jaw tense. He gently squeezed her hand.

“No,” Jess said quietly, “that won’t be necessary.”

“Very well,” the doctor said.

“How soon can we get this done?” Jess asked.

Dr. Rentha tapped her long fingers on her datapad. “I can schedule you for tonight. There is an open surgery suite with a surgical team available at 20:00.”

“That’s fast,” Poe said, glancing at his chrono. It was 16:23 already. 

“Another patient took ill with Andorian Shingles and a slot opened up,” Dr. Rentha smiled. “And, as my patient is a promising young pilot, I was able to get priority scheduling.”

“Thank you for that,” Jess said.

“My pleasure. I’ll send a nurse when we’re ready for you,” the doctor said and left the room.

Jess waited as the doctor left. She still hadn’t figured out how to say what she wanted to say to Poe. Still couldn’t find the ease and comfort that talking with him usually brought. Faking it wasn’t an option, she knew, Poe knew her too well.

Poe furrowed his brow. “What’s going on with you, Jess?” he asked quietly. “Why aren’t you talking to me?”

 _Because I’ve forgotten how to,_ she wanted to say. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.

A knock at the door interrupted them. Jess looked to the door and was surprised to see Admiral Antilles.

“Cadet Pava,” Antilles greeted as he stepped into the room. ”Commander Dameron.”

“Admiral,” Jess said and started to push herself up. For the second time that day, she was relieved for the awkward and stilted conversation with Poe to be interrupted and equally ashamed at the relief she felt from the interruption.

“Sir,” Poe said. He got to his feet and stood at attention as the Admiral joined them.

“At ease, Dameron. Pava, Stay where you are.”

Jess nodded and leaned back against the pillows again. “What can I do for you, Admiral?”

“I came to speak with you, Cadet. Dameron, would you please excuse us?” Antilles asked.

“Of course, Sir. Jess—I’ll be back soon,” he said before stepping out of the room.

“Did I do something wrong, Admiral?”

“No, not at all. I’m just here to see how you are, Jess.”

Jess’s lips quirked into a grin. Antilles only called her Jess when it was a social visit, not an official one. It usually put her at ease, but not today.

“I’m fine,” she replied automatically.

Antilles nodded slowly. “Because that’s definitely a response from _you_ that I believe,” he deadpanned. “Want to try that again?”

Jess let out a breathy laugh. “Right. Ok. I’m…I survived,” Jess amended. “And I’m working on getting better.”

“I’ve spoken to your doctor. An IT-O droid? That’s no joke.”

“Tell me about it,” Jess muttered.

“And it sounds like your knee is a concern?”

“Yeah.” Jess moved the blankets to show him her injured knee. Even after the bacta immersion, it was still an angry mix of red and purple bruises. “Doc says it’ll need surgery and then a brace for up to three months. No flying a fighter during that time. She said the soonest I can get back in an X-Wing cockpit is ten weeks.”

“Better than eleven,” Antilles offered.

“Barely,” Jess sighed. “So what are you really doing here, Admiral? I know you could’ve checked on my medical status from your office.”

“I wanted to see if you’d look over this for me,” he said, offering her his datapad.

“What is it?” Jess asked, taking the device.

“Aptitude Assessments. I have a cadet I’d like your opinion on.”

“Why mine?”

“I trust your judgment,” Antilles said. Jess raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Just look at the damn file, Pava,” he laughed.

Jess looked down before she looked back at the Admiral. “Is it even legal for you to show me these?”

Antilles shrugged. “Humor me.”

Jess sighed and started scrolling through the aptitude test results. She raised her eyebrows: whoever this was, they were good. Really good.

Top 10% in all measurable metrics.

Top 5% in Numeric, Verbal, and Diagrammatic Reasoning.

Top 2% in piloting, spatial awareness, astrotelemetry, and mathematics.

Excellent reviews from fellow pilots.

Identified as a candidate for future leadership.

Near-expert level proficiencies in targeting and marksmanship.

Personality traits indicated someone with good situational judgment and a cool head under pressure.

All assessments showed an extremely high level of competence. No red flags at all as far as Jess could tell. The only outlying results identified the cadet as having lower than preferred deference for authority, but not so low as to be excluded from consideration.

“What do you think?” Antilles asked.

“Whoever this is, they’re good,” Jess said, handing the datapad back to Antilles. “Really good. Top percentages in everything, liked by their peers, identified as having leadership potential, and highly competent—you’ve got a winner there, Boss.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. They’re not some credit a dozen pilot, that’s obvious from these results. Whatever you’re considering them for, I think they’re a great choice,” she shrugged. “Wish I could know who it is. Wouldn’t mind being their wingman.” 

Antilles smiled. “Funny you say that.”

“Are those Poe’s results?” Jess asked. “Kriff, that’s Poe’s file, isn’t it?”

“No. They’re yours.”

“What?” Jess gaped.

“Technically, you’re right. I’m not supposed to show anyone’s file to you. But it’s your own file, so…there’s a bit more of a gray area there,” Antilles smiled. “A technicality, if you will.”

“No way those are actual peer reviews,” Jess said. “No one likes me that much.”

“I think you’ll be surprised. They have gone up significantly since you first arrived,” Antilles said. “One of your peers writes: _Cadet Pava is an outstanding pilot and leader. I would follow her into battle._ Another wrote: _Cadet Pava sees every scenario and chooses the best. She is smart and has deadly reflexes._ A third said: _While she can be standoffish, Cadet Pava is one of the best pilots I have flown with. She is smart, funny, and loyal._ Shall I keep going?”

Jess shook her head. “No.”

“Good. I have to tell you though, Jess, it’s all variations on a theme here: they all say that you’re an incredible pilot who they like flying with and who they want to know better.”

“Why are you showing me my file?” Jess asked warily.

“I want you to see what everyone else sees when they look at you. When you were able to objectively look at your own stats—stripped of your self-bias and perceived worth due to your past—you could see that you’re one hell of a pilot and person. And I know that showing you some aptitude tests and peer reviews isn’t going to fix everything for you, but I want to make it clear that you’re not here because I felt sorry for you: you’re here because you’re one of the best. And because you’re one of the best, this is where you _should_ be. It’s no accident or fluke, you’re not a fraud to be here. And you’re certainly not here to be cannon fodder.”

Jess's guard was up. “What did Dameron say to you?” she asked.

Antilles sighed. “He told me what you said during your fight.”

“Fucking figures,” Jess muttered.

“He’s worried about you, Pava.”

“He shouldn’t be, I’m fine,” Jess said sharply. She regretted her words and tone immediately.

“Jess,” Antilles said warningly.

“I know that he’s worried about me,” Jess said quietly. “I just…” her voice faded away. The words weren’t there.

“He said you told him everything. Does he mean _everything_ everything?”

“Yeah,” Jess nodded. “He knows it all.”

“Good. I’m glad you told someone else,” Antilles said. “That’s a big burden for you to carry alone.”

Jess nodded but didn’t respond.

Antilles seemed to be waiting for her to say something before he realized she wasn’t going to reply. “He also said that now you’re not talking to him?” he continued.

“What do you mean? Yes, I am,” Jess furrowed her brow.

“He says you’re speaking to him, but not _talking_ to him.”

Jess opened her mouth to protest but stopped. “Is it that obvious?” she said instead.

“To him it is,” Antilles replied. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Jess said. She dropped her head into her hands. “It’s like I’ve forgotten how to talk to him. Like Gloarten took away the last five years and I’m that angry teenager all over again. I hate him. He took away my ability to talk to my friend. I can hear what I want to say in my head, but everything gets caught in my throat and I can’t say anything.”

“But you could talk to him on the ship,” Antilles prodded. “What changed?”

“I survived,” Jess whispered. “I survived when I didn’t think I would. And Gloarten’s dead. My past is dead. But I’m still sitting here with the broken pieces, trying to figure out how to make something human out of them.”

“Jess.”

“How can I go back to asking him _‘Screw, Marry, Kill’_ when he knows everything? When he’s seen me like this?” she muttered before she realized what she was saying. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. “Kriff. Can you forget I said that?” Jess groaned.

Antilles laughed. “I’m a pilot, too, Jess. I know all about cockpit chatter.” He sobered quickly. “I can’t even imagine what’s going on in your head right now with what you’ve been through this past week. But you have someone who wants to help you. You have someone in your corner who is willing to fight for you and stand in the gap for you while you put the pieces back together. So let him. Stop pushing him away.”

“How?”

“Tell him what’s going on. Let him into that brilliant and chaotic head of yours. You don’t have to go back to talking to him about holovids tomorrow, but let him know why you can’t right now. Just communicate with him, Pava. I promise he’s not planning on going anywhere. He’ll be with you through this and will still be there when you can talk to him easily again.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Have you met Poe Dameron?” Antilles laughed. “Not only do I know him, I know his parents. I flew with his mom and I know his dad. And Poe’s just like them—genuine, caring, and stubborn.”

“Kriff. There’s more than one of them?” Jess tried to joke. It felt better than previous attempts at jokes had.

“Yeah, somehow there’s more than one Dameron in the galaxy.” He paused. “Jess…you and I both know that Poe’s a good guy. And a good friend. You can let him know when things get to be too much. When you feel alone and at risk.” 

She looked up at Antilles. “I know Poe told you what I said. And I know you know me well enough to fill in any blanks he may have left. But…you know I’m not suicidal, right? I promise I’m not flying into the black _looking_ for a way to die or something. I’d rather _not_ die.”

Antilles smiled. “I know all that. I also know that you have absolutely no self-preservation instinct and that when that’s combined with some of your other destructive tendencies...it can get murky for people who don’t already know you.”

“Good,” Jess let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t want you to ground me because you think I’m a risk.”

“Oh, no, you’re definitely grounded,” Wedge laughed, “for at least a month, probably closer to two. But it’s not because I think you’re a risk or because of what you said in horrific circumstances.” He continued quickly before Jess could argue. “You’re grounded until that knee heals up and Dr. Rentha _fully_ clears you for active duty. I’m not gonna risk one of the most promising young pilots the NRDF has seen in years because she couldn’t stay out of a cockpit while she was recovering from an injury. And during that time, I’m expecting you to be attending your psytech appointments _regularly_. Am I clear?”

Jess sighed and leaned back into the pillows. “Yes, Admiral. I guess I should’ve expected that.”

“Probably. And after talking to Dr. Rentha, I’m approving her recommendation. You’ll be fully on leave for three weeks, effective immediately.”

“Three weeks? Admiral—” Jess tried to argue.

“Not up for debate, Pava.” Antilles interrupted her.

“What am I supposed to _do_ for three weeks?” I haven’t had three weeks off since…ever,” Jess grumbled.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Antilles said with a chuckle. He looked down at his chrono. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, Cadet, I have another appointment to get to.”

“Of course,” Jess nodded.

“I’ll see you in three weeks, Cadet,” Antilles said as he walked to the door.

“If I don’t go insane before then,” Jess replied with a small smile.

“Take care of that knee,” Antilles said as he stepped out of the room. “I want you back in a cockpit soon,” he called from the hallway.

“Wait! Admiral!” Jess shouted.

“Yeah?” Antilles said, leaning back into the room.

“Thank you for coming to see me,” Jess said. “And for talking to me.”

“It’s always my pleasure to talk to you, Pava. Next time, though, let’s talk over caf rather than in a hospital room,” Antilles said.

Jess laughed. “Deal. That sounds much better.”

“Want me to send Dameron back in?”

“Yes, please,” Jess said. “I think we have some talking to do.”

“I like the sound of that,” Antilles smiled. “See you in three weeks.”

“Sure thing, Boss. See you then,” Jess said. With a final wave, Antilles disappeared from view.

* * *

“She’s ready for you to go back in,” Antilles said, startling Poe from his holonovel.

“Shit. Admiral, I didn’t hear you,” Poe said.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” Antilles said. “Good book?”

“Ye—you know, I don’t know. I don’t remember what I’ve read,” Poe grinned sheepishly. “My mind’s a little distracted.”

Antilles chuckled. “Wanted to let you know that I’ve approved Dr. Rentha’s recommendation of three weeks of leave for Pava.”

“Thank you for letting me know, Sir,” Poe said.

“And yours is approved if you want it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Poe nodded. “It’s gonna depend on what Jess wants.”

“I think she’s ready to talk to you about what she _needs_ ,” Antilles said.

Poe was astonished. “What did you do to get her to talk?” he asked.

Antilles smiled but didn’t answer his question. “See you in three weeks, Commander,” he said.

“I didn’t say I’m going,” Poe argued. 

Antilles patted Poe’s shoulder and continued down the hallway towards the turbolift.

Poe watched the man disappear behind the sliding doors. With a shake of his head, he gathered his things and returned to Jess’s room.

“Hey Jess,” Poe said. “How’d your talk with Antilles go?”

“Fine,” she said quietly. Her gaze was focused out the window.

Poe was concerned by her behavior. “Is something wrong?” he asked as he sat his bag down.

Jess shook her head before she stopped and froze. She closed her eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Jess, you should have said something! What is it? Do you need me to find a doctor?” Poe asked. He scanned the data on the screens: he’d been a patient enough times to have an idea of what he was looking at. Nothing looked wrong, though.

“No, it’s not like that,” she sighed. “Something’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Poe said firmly.

Jess gave Poe an incredulous look. “Poe, there’s something wrong. I can feel it. I don’t know what, but…I don’t feel like myself. I feel like…like I can’t _talk._ ”

Poe nodded slowly in understanding. “Feels like everything’s getting caught in your throat, right? Can’t get anything out that makes sense?” He remembered feeling that way after his mother passed away. It was a feeling that had lasted far longer than it should have and had made his relationship with his dad infinitely more complicated.

Jess nodded and bit her lip. “And what I do get out comes out sharp and mean. I can hear it in my voice, but I can’t stop it.”

“Jess, you just went through a major trauma. Your brain is trying to protect itself until it knows you’re safe again,” Poe said.

“And how long will that be? When will I feel _normal_ again?” Jess asked. The sharp edge of her tone made it sound like an accusation and not a question. Jess squeezed her eyes closed before she turned and looked at Poe. “I’m sorry. That came out—I didn’t—you don’t deserve—"

“Shh, Jess. I get it. You’re fine,” Poe said, putting his hand on hers.

“You asked me before why I wasn’t talking to you…and it’s because it feels like I’ve forgotten how to.”

“What do you mean?” Poe asked.

Jess took a deep breath. “Look…Antilles said I need to tell you what’s going on in my head. But it’s kind of a mess in here, but I’m gonna do my best. I feel like I can’t talk to you. I don’t know why and I wish I did. I promise: it’s _nothing_ you did, so don’t get all self-blame-y on me. It’s Gloarten’s fault. Being back there…with him…it fucked with me, ok? And now, I…I feel like I did when I first got away from him: entirely incapable and unprepared for the world and without a clue on how to talk to people or be human and completely alone. The difference is that now…now I know what I want to say, but it’s like I can’t figure out how to get my voice to say it. It’s hard for me to have told you all of this heavy and terrible crap about my childhood and then go back to arguing with you about which _Adventures of Luke Skywalker_ holovid is the best. And I know I’ll get there, I’ll get back to normal and how we used to talk, but I think it might take some time and I’m just asking for you to stick it out with me,” Jess said. She blinked away tears before they could fall. “And saying things like this is really hard for me. Asking for help or patience or anything is hard for me. I’m not good at letting people in, Poe. And the only reason I feel like I can ask you is because you’re you and I trust you and…” she trailed off. “Sorry…that was a lot and…”

"Hey," Poe said, squeezing her hand. "You're gonna be ok." 

"You don't know that," Jess said.

"You're right, I don't know that. What I mean is that whatever shit comes, we'll face it together. I believe that you'll be fine, Jess,” Poe smiled gently at his friend. “I know it’s hard. But you’re not that kid anymore—you are capable and prepared and so deeply human. And you’re not alone. I’m here. You’re not getting rid of me that easily, so it looks like you’re stuck with me. Let me help you—we’ll figure out how to get the words out together. Think you can let me do that? Or at least try to?”

Jess nodded and gave a weak smile. “Yeah. I can try. I’ll try to let you know what’s going on in my head, too.”

Poe chuckled. “That’ll help. I’m not a Jedi, I can’t read minds. At least, not _yet._ ”

Jess huffed a laugh before she sighed and reached up and wiped stray tears out of her eyes. Poe’s gaze locked onto the dark ink on her forearm. It was different than when she’d shown it to him at the lake.

“Wait, what’s that?” Poe caught her arm and turned it to see the black mark. Without the bruises covering her skin, a new tattoo was clearly visible: another circle connected to the first Slave’s Mark with a new line of dots and dashes inside of it. It wasn’t done by a professional, Poe could tell: the circle wasn’t anywhere near as precise as the previous one and the compressed binary was sloppy.

“You know what it is,” Jess whispered. “Just…added to.”

“I didn’t know he did this to you,” Poe said, his voice low. “You didn’t tell me about this.”

“You saw my injuries on the ship,” Jess said softly.

Poe nodded. “I guess I did. But…I didn’t notice this. Everything else was too…overwhelming. I’m sorry.”

Jess shrugged. “It’s fine,” she said, trying to pull her arm away. Poe let it go. “Just another fun and permanent memory of him.”

“Can’t they remove it? Muran said that’s what they did to Mattis’s.”

Jess shrugged. “Maybe. But it won’t really go away. I’ll still see it.”

Poe looked at it again for a moment before he reached in his bag and pulled out a black paint pen. He held it near Jess’s tattoo. “May I?”

Jess raised an eyebrow. “Is that a paint pen for your X-Wing?”

“And if it is?” Poe asked with a grin.

“What do you want to do?” Jess asked warily.

“I have an idea,” Poe smiled. “I think you’ll like it. Trust me.” 

“Fine,” Jess said and relaxed her arm. Poe started drawing around the tattoo, careful not to put too much pressure on the still-healing skin.

“What are you doing?” Jess said, craning her neck to see what he was marking on her skin.

“No looking ‘til I’m done,” Poe said, covering up the tattoo with his hand.

“Not fair, it’s my skin.”

“I’m almost done.”

“Ugh, fine.” Jess dropped her head back on her pillow. “That pen isn’t toxic, is it?”

Poe paused what he was doing and glanced up. “That’s your biggest concern right now?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“If you’re poisoning me, yeah, that’s my biggest concern. Everything else wrong with me is being fixed,” Jess shrugged.

Poe laughed. “I dunno. You’re in a hospital, so even if it is, I think you’ll be ok,” he replied with a grin. “I’ve gotten it on my skin before and it’s never been an issue.”

“Comforting.”

“Hush,” Poe said and looked back down at his work.

From the corner of his eye, Poe could see Jess looking everywhere but at her arm, trying to distract herself from what he was doing. “Are you done yet?” she asked.

“Yes,” Poe said, leaning back. “What do you think?”

Jess looked down. The original tattoo remained untouched, but in place of the sloppy second circle, Poe had drawn a stylized Starbird over the tattoo, reminiscent of the Rebel Alliance’s symbol.

“Wow,” Jess said, staring at her arm.

“I think a Starbird is fitting of you,” Poe said with a smile. “I grew up the child of Rebels and I’ve never known someone who has a rebel heart like yours.” 

“A rebel heart,” Jess smiled. “I like that.” 

“You know the story of the Starbird?” Poe asked.

Jess shook her head. “My parents told me Dandoran stories as a kid and galactic legends aren’t…ah…exactly something that gets shared with slaves.”

“Then _I_ will tell you and complete your education. And you’re in luck because I am a fantastic storyteller,” he said with a grin. “Not to mention, it’s one of my favorites. Starbirds are immortal, legendary creatures. When I was a kid, the story that my mom use to tell me was that they fly through space, beautiful and dangerous, helping those in need. My favorite part of the legend, though, is that when they seem to be dead, the Starbirds were actually renewing themselves in the heart of a nova to be born again. My mom used to say they were a symbol of hope. It’s why the Rebellion used it as their symbol during the war.” 

“That’s a lot of legacy for me to carry in a tattoo.”

Poe laughed. “If anyone’s worthy of it, you are. I don’t think I know anyone else who doesn’t know how to stay down quite like you.”

Jess frowned. “What does that mean?”

Poe looked at Jess like she was the most miraculous thing in the galaxy. “It means that every time you get knocked down, you get back up. Even when you probably shouldn’t, you get back up. You’ve gotten up more times than I can count. Every time something happens to you, you rise from the ashes, more than anyone else I know. If anyone has ever embodied a Starbird, it’s you.” 

“You sure that’s not just me being Dandoran?” Jess quipped. 

“Yeah,” Poe laughed. “I’m sure.” 

Jess smiled and turned her arm to get a better look at the mark. “I like it.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Jess said. “Rising from the ashes. I like it.”

“If you want to make it permanent, I’ll pay for it.”

“Poe, I couldn’t—”

“It’s a gift, Jess. Birthday. Life Day. Whatever Day—whatever you want to call it.”

Jess looked at the painted mark again and nodded. “Alright.”

Poe grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, great. I’ll take you to get it done when you get out of here.” Poe thought about what Antilles had suggested. Maybe going back to Yavin wasn’t the worst idea he’d heard. “Hey, speaking of when you get out of here…when you’re cleared to leave the hospital, do you think you’d be up for a trip?” he asked.

“What?” Jess asked.

“You got a little banged up,” Poe said. “Even with another bacta immersion and a brace for your knee, I know you’re on leave for three weeks. Antilles told me. And I have some time I could take. Want to go on a trip?”

“The last time I went somewhere with you I almost died,” Jess tried to joke. Poe cringed. “Too soon?”

“Yeah, definitely too soon,” Poe confirmed.

“I’m sorry. Where do you want me to go?” Jess asked.

“I was thinking Yavin IV.”

Jess gave Poe a hesitant smile. “Poe Dameron, are you asking me to meet your father?”

“I think you’re ready for it,” he grinned.

“Are you?”

Poe laughed. “Yeah, I think I’m ready for it. And Yavin is a good place to rest. To recover. To feel at home.” His voice softened as he finished.

“You’re serious?” Jess asked quietly.

“Yeah, Jess…let’s go home,” Poe said with a smile.

Jess nodded. “Alright. Yeah. Let’s go to Yavin.”

“I’ll call Kes,” Poe said. “How much caf should I tell him to have ready?”

Jess snorted. “Shut up,” she laughed. It felt almost normal.

“Cadet Pava,” a nurse said from the doorway. “Dr. Rentha sent me to collect you for surgery.”

“Yeah, right,” Jess said. “Let’s, ah, get this over with.”

The nurse brought the hoverchair over to the hospital bed.

“I’ve got her,” Poe said, helping move Jess to the hoverchair. “I’ll be here when you get back,” he promised.

“Poe—” Jess grabbed his hand before the nurse took her back for surgery. “Thank you—for coming for me.”

“Always for you.” Poe gave her the biggest smile he could and wrapped her in a hug. “Always for you,” he repeated.

“You still haven’t explained that to me,” Jess said, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

“I’ll tell you when you get out of surgery,” Poe promised and kissed the top of her head.

“You did that before.” Jess’s eyes searched his face like she was trying to figure something out.

“What?”

“Kissed my hair. On the ship.”

Poe felt his cheeks grow warm. “Um…yeah. My mom used to do that when I was upset. It always made me feel safe. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“No…I like it,” Jess smiled. “It’s ok if you do that.”

“Cadet Pava, we need to go,” the nurse said. “The doctors are waiting.” 

“Just give us ten seconds,” Poe said. He grinned and kissed her hair again. “I’ll be right here when you wake up. I swear.”

“Then Yavin?” Jess asked.

“Then Yavin,” he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo. Long chapter, but I wanted to give Jess lots of affirmation and support after all the hell I put her through in this story.
> 
> Wedge Antilles also is on my list of characters who don't get near enough recognition in the movies. He's such a solid guy and I like using him in my stories.
> 
> This is the last 'chapter', so to speak, but there's still the epilogue, which I personally love and hope you do, too. (I'm sure you can guess some things about the epilogue).
> 
> I'm trying to decide between another Academy-Era story or posting a Resistance-Era story. Any thoughts? 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	19. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of my "Linked by the Universe" Series. AKA I read the entire Poe Dameron comic series in a 3 day period and decided that Jessika Pava needs more storytime. So I wrote it for her.
> 
> Mostly canon, but with some creative license. I added like, 2-3 months between TFA and TLJ. It's fine. But that doesn't even matter for this story because this is pre-Resistance.
> 
> Anything you think you recognize/think may have been stolen from another fandom, it's entirely possible. (Nothing intentionally stolen from other writers, though.) "Good writers borrow, great writers steal." -T.S. Eliot
> 
> Unbeta-ed, so if you see something, tell me. Or if you think I'm missing any tags, let me know. Kudos and comments adored! I reply to all comments because if you're gonna take the time to read my stuff and say something about it, I'll take the time to reply.

* * *

Jess had gotten out of surgery two days ago. Dr. Rentha said she was extremely pleased with the results and anticipated Jess making a full recovery. After a final bacta immersion, the doctor declared Jess stable enough for travel the following morning. Poe had picked her up from the hospital at sunrise the next day and they’d left for Yavin IV less than an hour later.

The flight was easy—clean jumps, no unexpected rubble fields, no pirates or slavers. Jess had even managed to fall asleep about an hour into the trip, leaving Poe to think about what it meant for him to be going home. He couldn’t stop his knee from bouncing. If Jess had been awake to ask, he wouldn’t have been able to say if it was nerves or excitement. He was excited to be home for a few days, but home also brought up bittersweet memories. Some of his mom—the ones he and his dad were still unpacking how to live with—and some with his dad and the damage Poe had done without realizing it.

Of course, he’d called his dad to let him know that he was coming home and that he was bringing a friend. Kes Dameron wasn’t exactly the kind of man you surprised. As a former Rebel Pathfinder, Poe wouldn’t be surprised if his dad had booby-trapped the whole damn ranch. L’ulo had hopefully kept him from doing that.

As soon as he dropped out of hyperspace, the orange gas giant loomed in front of him. The small blue-green jewel moon was just appearing along its far edge. Poe checked the chrono: it would be early morning on his dad’s side of the moon.

 _“Unknown Starship, this is Yavin IV Civilian Defense Force. You’re on our scanners. Please identify yourself,”_ a voice said over the comm.

“This is Poe Dameron, requesting permission to land,” Poe said.

 _“Poe Dameron?”_ the voice said in surprise. _“Didn’t expect to hear your voice.”_

“Yeah, it was kind of a last-minute trip. Is this Dern?” 

_“Yeah, it is. How the hell are ya?”_

“I’m doing alright. How are you?”

_“Doing fine. Does your dad know you’re coming?”_

“I’m not an idiot,” Poe laughed, “I don’t want to get shot on landing. Yeah, he knows I’m coming.”

_“What are you flying? I don’t recognize that ship.”_

“It’s a loaner from Admiral Antilles.”

 _“Well look at you! Moving up in the world,”_ Dern laughed. _“Anything to declare?”_

“Just me and a passenger. Last name Pava, first name Jessika. NRDF Cadet.”

_“Home planet?”_

“Dandoran. Sending our chaincodes through now.”

_“Received. Standby.”_

Poe waited while Dern processed the information.

_“Alright, looks like you’re clear to land, Poe. Are you coming to the starport or going straight to the ranch?”_

“Ranch if I can.”

 _“I’ll push it through,”_ Dern said. _“Your dad will be glad to see you. He’s missed you.”_

“I’m gonna be here for about two weeks. He’ll be sick of me by the time I’m gone,” Poe joked.

 _“I doubt that. You’re cleared to land. Welcome home, Poe.”_ Dern said and disconnected the comm.

Poe put in the coordinates for the ranch and sat back. They’d be landing in fifteen minutes.

He gently reached over and touched Jess’s shoulder. “Hey, Jess, wake up.”

Jess sat up sharply, startled, but reoriented herself quickly. “What’s happened?” she asked sharply, ready for an attack or a firefight.

Poe frowned slightly before covering it with a smile. Over a week had passed since Jess had been rescued and Gloarten had been killed, and while Poe hadn’t expected them to go back to normal immediately, things were still very different between them. She had made progress and was approaching what Poe would consider Jess’s normal baseline, she hadn’t fully lost the sharp edge that she’d come home from Ibanjji with. Poe didn’t know how long it would take for it to completely disappear.

“You’re ok, Jess. Take a deep breath. Nothing happened,” he said calmly. In the last three days, he’d learned a lot about how to communicate with Jess while she was processing everything that had happened to her. Most of it was assuring her that things were ok or explaining what was happening or giving her something to ground herself with. Other times, he just had to listen as she talked about what was going on in her head. “We just dropped out of hyperspace and I thought you’d like to be awake before we break atmo.”

Jess nodded. “Sorry,” she said. Poe knew she could hear the edge in her voice, too. “Thanks for waking me up.”

“It’s ok. I understand.”

“And sorry for passing out on you.”

“Don’t worry about that. The doctor told me that you’d probably be in and out for a few days. It means you’re healing,” Poe said. “Plus, it’s an easy flight—nothing unexpected.”

“Done it a few times?” Jess quipped.

“Yeah, just a few,” Poe grinned. “How’s the knee?”

“Hurts,” Jess replied, adjusting the brace. “But it’s getting better.”

“Soon as we’re off the ship, you can stretch it out. Just relax and rest. We’re not going anywhere. Deal?”

Jess nodded. “Deal.”

Poe looked back to the moon below them. “This is my favorite part,” Poe said as he pushed the ship through the outer atmosphere and towards the planet. The sky grew from an inky black into a brilliant blue. The vibrant green seemed to shimmer from the planet’s surface as the ship dove lower.

Poe glanced over at Jess. She was staring out the window in awe.

“You never told me how beautiful it is here,” Jess whispered.

“Sometimes I forget,” Poe said. He pointed into the distance. “Over there are the Massassi Temples. See them?”

“Yeah,” Jess nodded.

“That’s where the old Rebel base was during the first Death Star. When you come back with a good knee, I’ll take you exploring—we’ll go climb around in them.”

“When I come back?” Jess turned to look at him.

“Yeah. I definitely plan on bringing you back at some point. I mean, unless you and my dad don’t get along, but I highly doubt that’s gonna be an issue,” Poe grinned. The look on Jess’s face was one of fragile hope—a look that Poe hoped he would never break. He faced forward again as he flew over a small community and headed out towards the jungle. He steered the ship towards a clearing with a house in the middle of it.

“This is the ranch?” Jess asked.

“Yeah. This is home,” Poe said. “Dad has about 40 acres and the herd is about 25 head, last I knew—some might have been born since I was last home. Most of the land is used for nerf ranching, but he has a few fields of crops.” He brought the ship down to a bare patch of earth behind the house. He powered down the ship and looked at Jess. “We’re here.”

“What…” Jess cleared her throat. “What now?”

Poe smiled. “Come on,” he said and helped Jess to her feet. “Do you need help down the ramp?” he asked.

“No,” Jess shook her head. “I think I’ve got it.”

Poe nodded but stayed right next to Jess as she limped out of the cockpit and down the ramp. Waiting at the bottom of the ramp was his father.

“Well, look who came home,” Kes greeted. 

“Hey Dad,” Poe smiled. Kes Dameron was a 25-year-older reflection of Poe: same tan skin, same dark eyes, same jawline. Though Kes had a few inches of height on his son, they shared the same build and physical stance. Poe’s mischievous grin and uncontrollable curls, though…he knew those came from Shara. Kes’s dark hair was flecked with more gray than he’d had the last time Poe had been home and the wrinkles by his eyes were more pronounced, but he was otherwise exactly how Poe remembered him.

Kes wrapped his son in a hug. “It’s been a while.”

“Sorry,” Poe grimaced and stepped back from his dad. “I’ve been a little busy. Dad, this is—"

“You’re Jess.” Kes cut Poe off. He smiled as he met Jess’s gaze. “Poe’s told me a lot about you.”

“Sargent Dameron,” Jess said and tried to straighten herself.

“It’s Kes, kid. I’m retired—have been for a while.” 

Poe could tell his dad was assessing Jess—reading her with the soldier’s gaze that Poe had never been able to escape.

“Yeah…ok…Kes,” Jess nodded and bit her lip. Poe could tell she was uncomfortable.

“Dad, Jess is—” he was cut off when Kes stepped forward and wrapped Jess in a hug.

“Dad! What…are you doing?” Poe’s voice faded away.

Jess tensed for half a second but then relaxed and melted into Kes’s embrace. She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and let silent tears run down her face. Kes held her in a firm but gentle embrace.

“You’re ok, kid, you’re gonna be ok,” Kes whispered to Jess.

Poe looked on as his father comforted his friend—it was a side of his dad he hadn’t seen in a long time. Time seemed to freeze. They stood there, just outside of the ship, for what felt like an eternity and simultaneously like a second, as Jess took in support and comfort from Poe’s father. Kes held Jess until she pushed away, wiping at her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Jess said, forcing a grin. “This isn’t how I usually meet people.”

“No need to apologize, Jess. Now, let’s get you inside,” he wrapped an arm around Jess, supporting her as they made their way into the house. “Poe, need help with the gear?”

“Na, I got it,” Poe said, trailing behind them with their bags.

As soon as Kes got Jess into the guest room, she collapsed into bed and fell asleep within minutes. Poe made sure she was alright before he headed back downstairs to the kitchen.

“You sure you don’t want to sleep, too?” Kes asked. “No need to stay awake on my account.”

“I’m still on Hosnian time,” Poe shrugged and poured himself a cup of caf. “I’ll push through.”

The kitchen was silent as Poe added sugar and cream to his caf and picked out a piece of fruit from a bowl.

“How you doing, Poe?” Kes asked eventually.

“I’m alright, Dad,” Poe said, dropping into the same chair he’d sat in for years. “Thanks for letting us come.”

“This is your home, Poe. You’re always welcome here,” Kes said over his caf.

“I know. But…”

“But nothing,” Kes said quietly. “I know we’ve had some…differences in the past…”

Poe snorted. _That_ was an understatement.

“…but you’re my son. And this is your home,” Kes said, his voice low and slow. “Just as your mom would want.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Kes stretched back in his chair. “So you gonna tell me about what happened to your friend? She looks like she went three rounds with a Wookiee.”

“I’ll tell you what I can…there’s a lot I can’t,” Poe said.

“She’s marked, isn’t she?” Kes said.

“What?”

“A former slave,” Kes clarified, tapping his forearm—exactly where Jess’s tattoo was.

“What makes you think that?”

“I know the look,” Kes said. “We had friends in the Rebellion who carried themselves the same way.”

“What look is that?”

“Like they have to be ready for everything and anything and it’s all on their shoulders. And if something fails, it’s their fault and they’ll be punished for it. It’s in the eyes—a kind of wild fear that they can control most of the time, but when they can’t…” Kes paused. “You see enough people with that look, you learn to connect the dots.”

Poe nodded slowly. “Yeah…she is.”

“When?”

“Eight to sixteen,” Poe said.

Kes let out a low whistle. “That makes sense—she’s been out for a few years, so she’s started adapting, but it’s still a struggle for her, I’m sure. Still see the signs. But eight? She was young.”

Poe chewed the inside of his lip. “It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not,” Kes agreed. “So what happened that you brought her here?” 

“You know Antilles is having me train her on an individualized plan, right? Accelerated learning?” Poe asked.

“Yeah. You told me about that when you got promoted,” Kes nodded.

Poe sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “It was supposed to be a kriffing training run,” he started, “I managed to get some extra time for her in a real ship, not just a training SIM. We were going to go out on a loop to the Mieru'kar Sector and back to Hosnian Prime. Jess did all the math for the jumps…they were good, but…”

“Something went wrong,” Kes supplied.

“Yeah,” Poe huffed a laugh. “Things went as wrong as they could.” He told his dad the rest of the story, starting with the rubble field and then everything else from the Hy’thor Group to the emergency ejection to storming the _Schrei._

Kes was quiet for a moment, considering everything his son had just told him. “You’re right…you have been busy,” he said eventually.

“You’re not mad?” Poe asked, surprised at his father’s level response.

“Why would I be mad?”

Poe narrowed his eyes at his dad. “You feeling ok, Dad? I just told you that I did literally all of the things you didn’t want me to do as a kid and you’re not mad?”

Kes chuckled. “I’m fine, kid. And no, I ain’t mad.”

“Why not?”

“Because you didn’t do it just to rebel. You did it to save your friend. And I respect that,” Kes said. “It’s what I would have done—and what your mom would have done.”

That caught Poe off guard. “I…uh…thanks, Dad.” 

“I’m proud of you, Poe. I probably haven’t said that enough, but I am.”

“Seriously, Dad…are you alright? You’re not about to drop something on me, are you? You’re not sick or…”

“No, Poe. I’m good,” Kes sighed. “After you ran off, I—"

“Dad, we don’t have to do this. We talked when I came home and—”

“And since then, I’ve done a lot of thinking,” Kes interrupted Poe.

“Is that code for L’ulo talked to you?”

Kes chuckled. “Well, I did a lot of listening, too. I realized that I didn’t give you what you needed after your mom died. I was so lost in my own pain that I didn’t think about yours. I’m sorry.”

Poe nodded. “I’m sorry, too. I know I didn’t exactly make things easy on you.”

“No, you didn’t,” Kes sighed. “But we’re all each other has left, so I think we need to figure out how to make this work. Force forbid something happens to either of us, but if it does…I don’t want us ending while walking on glass.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Can we wipe the slate clean? Just…take it all off the table?” Kes proposed. “I’m not saying we forget it—it’s made us what we are. But I’d like to get to know you as the man you are rather than the kid you were.”

“Yeah, Dad. We can do that,” Poe smiled. “I’d really like that, actually.”

Kes stood and stretched. “Come on, then. The ranch doesn’t run itself.”

Poe chuckled and followed his dad outside. They spent the rest of the morning working on the ranch and talking about all the things that they had pushed aside for years. They talked about Kes’s experience in the war and how hard it was to adjust back to civilian life with a two-year-old that he barely knew. They talked about Poe’s childhood and the ranch and how perfect everything seemed for those six blissful years. They talked about Shara’s death and how neither of them had seen it coming. Kes told Poe about the pain of losing his other half and how it had been so hard to look at Poe and see Shara smiling back at him. Poe told Kes how lost he’d felt and how lonely that time in his life was. They talked about the next few years in a rush—it was a dark and angry time for both of them.

Eventually, they got to Poe’s time with the Spice Runners. Before, Poe had told Kes the basics, but now, he told him everything that had happened during those two years. Kes listened patiently and didn’t interrupt, though Poe was sure he wanted to a couple of times. It wasn’t an easy thing to hear your child say, he was sure. Kes told his son about those two years on Yavin—about his recovery after being attacked by the lurkers and his realization that something would have to change if he didn’t want to lose his son forever.

The conversation turned a corner when Poe started telling his dad about his time at the Academy and in the NRDF. Kes grinned as he worked to rewire some replacement components into one of the farm droids, listening as Poe told him stories about Iolo Arana, Karé Kun, Muran, and Jess.

“You’ve made a good life for yourself, kid,” Kes said, closing the panel. “I’m proud of you.”

“You taught me how,” Poe said, offering his dad a rag for his hands. “You and Mom.”

Kes smiled. “So tell me more about this Muran fellow.”

“What about him?” Poe asked warily.

“You sound _interested_ ,” Kes said slyly.

Poe shook his head. “No. Uh-uh. I’m not having this conversation with my dad,” he laughed.

“What? You go off and meet a nice boy and won’t even tell me about him?” Kes teased.

“You’re lucky I brought Jess home for you to meet. I don’t need you corrupting Muran, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that once Jess feels like herself again, you two are gonna get along like a house on fire,” Poe said.

Kes grinned conspiratorially. “Oh really?”

“Really. I’ve dreaded this day,” Poe laughed as they headed back towards the house for lunch. “Dad, she’s a little more prickly than normal right now, but she’s one of my best friends. So…give her a break. Please?”

“Poe, I was a Pathfinder during the Rebellion. Prickly is my type.”

Poe rolled his eyes and reached for the door. Kes grabbed his shoulder, stopping him.

“Hey, Poe,” Kes said, turning his son to face him.

“Yeah, Dad?”

“You know I love you, right? All of this,” Kes waved vaguely out towards the barn they’d been working in, as if he could indicate to their conversation, “everything I’ve said or haven’t said, everything I did or didn’t do…even when I didn’t say it, I’ve always loved you. Always will. As for the crap, it's all forgiven, all forgotten. And I meant what I said on that damned planet—nothing will ever keep me from coming after you.”

Poe looked his father in the eyes. That wasn’t a typical Kes thing to say—he’d always been a strong but silent type, keeping everything pretty close to the vest. Especially after Shara died. But he was saying it now, and Poe wasn’t going to lose this moment.

“I’ve never doubted that, Dad,” Poe said honestly. He and his dad had had their differences, but Poe had always known, even in their worst fights—even when he’d run away—that his dad loved him. “I hope you know the same goes for me. I'm sorry for all of it. I love you, too.”

Kes flashed a grin and squeezed Poe’s shoulder. He reached over and opened the door, letting them into the quiet house.

“Doesn’t look like Jess is awake yet,” Kes said.

Poe nodded. He’d checked on her periodically throughout the morning, but this was the longest continuous _natural_ sleep she’d gotten since getting back from Ibanjji, and he didn’t want to be the reason she was interrupted. “The doctor said she’d be in and out. So I’m just gonna let her do what she needs to.”

“Kalonia treating her?” Kes asked. He had developed a soft spot for the doctor while she had been treating Shara.

“No. She’s…” Poe didn’t know if his dad knew what was going on in the core. He settled on saying, “She’s with Leia.”

“I see,” Kes said. Poe could tell from his tone that his father had a pretty good idea of what that meant. He cleared his throat. “Nerf fried rice sound good?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Sounds great,” Poe said. He and Kes washed their hands and gathered the ingredients for their lunch.

“I’m surprised L’ulo hasn’t stopped by yet,” Poe said as he chopped vegetables. “Figured he’d be here as soon as he heard I’d landed.”

“He had to go back to Duro,” Kes said. “Family matter.”

“Too bad we missed him.”

“He’ll be disappointed, too.”

“Who’s L’ulo?” Jess asked, startling both Damerons. Poe turned around: Jess was leaning heavily on the wall, her eyes still sleepy, but she looked better than she had since she’d gotten back from Ibanjji.

“Hey!” Poe said, recovering first. He put the knife down and crossed the kitchen. He offered Jess his arm for support. “How are you feeling?”

Jess grabbed his arm. “Better than I have in what feels like forever,” she said as they slowly made their way to the table. She looked at Kes. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t the best guest this morning.”

Kes waved her apology off. “Poe told me a little about what happened on your mission. You do what you need to do to heal up and get better. Understood?”

Jess nodded and sank into the chair. “Thank you.”

Poe slid a mug of caf in front of her. “Best on Yavin,” he said with a wink.

“You’re a good man, Poe Dameron,” Jess said, inhaling the scent.

“Poe told me you like caf, so I bought a fresh roast before you arrived,” Kes said. “Now, are you hungry?”

“Starving,” Jess said.

“Dad’s a great cook,” Poe said. “He’s making nerf fried rice.”

“Don’t let him get you too excited,” Kes said. “I’m passable.”

“Whatever you make, it’s gotta be better than hospital rations,” Jess said.

“Oh, I’m a far better cook than that,” Kes grinned.

* * *

Time passed strangely on Yavin IV. Poe had warned her about that. Sometimes, the days were long and slow and others passed in the blink of an eye. And sometimes, they all blended into one long blur.

Jess’s first few days on the jungle moon were unlike any other time she could remember in her life. The first day there, she’d slept past noon. And in the following couple of days, she had slept when she wanted—which was often—for as long as she wanted, ate more homecooked meals than she’d had since she was a child, and spent her days reading or sitting on the porch overlooking the Dameron Ranch.

Her favorite thing to do was sit on that porch. She couldn’t remember a time when she could just be still. As a child, there had been the farm and after her family had been captured and sold, the work it took to stay alive had taken up all of her time. After she won her freedom, she thought maybe she could slow down. Yashi had been a good distraction for a while. But it hadn’t taken long for her to figure out that staying still meant that her past could catch up—so she kept running. There was always another race to win, another ship to fix, another warrant to avoid. By the time Antilles had caught her, she was tired. Not that she would have ever admitted it to anyone, but she was tired of running. Tired of hiding. Tired of _everything_. The NRDF wasn’t just a chance to avoid prison, it was a chance to stay busy, to keep moving, but without the incessant running.

It hadn’t mattered, though. No matter how far she ran, no matter how much distance she thought she had put between herself and her past, it had still managed to catch up with her. Her path had crossed with Gloarten’s far from either of their homes and she had nearly died in the encounter. But against all odds, she was the one who survived. He was gone. Now, for the first time—possibly ever—she felt like she could stop running and just be.

Jess watched as a flock of large golden-winged birds flew across the sky. They made no sound as they swooped over the field, separating and diving low into the grass before returning to their chevron formation, their prey tightly clamped in their beaks.

“They’re called whisper birds,” a voice said from behind her. “They fly silently when they hunt. Hence the name.”

“Hi Kes,” Jess greeted without turning.

“How are you feeling?” Kes asked. 

“I kinda wish everyone would stop asking me that,” Jess said. She grit her teeth. “I’m sorry. That was…I’ve had trouble filtering since Ibanjji.”

Kes laughed. “Poe told me that you were a little more…prickly, I believe is the word he used—more prickly than normal.”

That made Jess laugh. “Yeah…prickly might be a good word for me right now.” 

“I heard you had a mission go sideways,” Kes said as he sat down next to her and offered her a mug of caf. She took it gratefully. 

“It’s funny how lightly we say that,” Jess said. “Saying a mission ‘went sideways’ like it’s no big deal. Like it didn’t alter my life. Like Poe and I both didn’t almost die.” She sighed and looked down at the mug in her hands. “Sorry I've been a pretty terrible guest. Just…sleeping in your guest room and eating your food and drinking your caf and sitting here on your porch.”

“No need to apologize, kid. You’re here to rest and heal, I don’t have any other expectations of you. It’s peaceful here. That’s why Poe’s mother and I settled on Yavin IV,” Kes said. “After the war, we just wanted peace. And this little jungle moon provided that for us.”

Jess nodded. “I can see why you’d pick this place. The way Poe talks about it sometimes, you’d think that it’s some strip-mined rock or something, but…it’s beautiful here.”

“My son has always had his head in the stars,” Kes laughed. “He’s like his mother in that way. Yavin wasn’t ever big enough for him.” He gestured across the field to a pavilion covering an old and mostly destroyed A-Wing. Poe was working on one of the wings with BB-8 rolling around below him.

“That’s Shara’s old ship, isn’t it?” Jess asked.

Kes nodded. “Poe was joyriding as a teenager, got shot down by the Civilian Defense. I don’t know if he ever forgave himself for crashing her ship. He’s been trying to piece it back together ever since.”

“He’s told me a lot about her. And you,” Jess said.

“Did he now?”

“Yeah,” Jess nodded. “Told me about Shara teaching him to fly and about you teaching him to commit to doing things right and to completion or to not do them at all. And that you both taught him to fix anything. He still tries to fix everything, even when it’s not his to fix.” 

Kes snorted. “That’s Poe. It’s gotten him into trouble a fair amount, too.”

“Yeah, he told me about that, too.”

“He told you about Kijimi?” Kes raised an eyebrow.

Jess nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“It’s…complicated. After what happened…” Jess didn’t know what exactly to say.

“On Ibanjji. Poe told me a little bit about that.”

“How much did he tell you?” Jess asked warily.

“He was cautious ‘bout what he said. Told me there was a lot that wasn’t his to share. He did say that you offered yourself to save him,” Kes said.

“I did,” Jess said softly. 

“Thank you.” 

“I would do it again. Without question or hesitation.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” Kes leaned back and sighed. “But I can’t help but wonder why.” 

“Can’t understand why I’d want to save your kid?” Jess quirked an eyebrow. 

“Why you’d risk your life again when you knew the stakes.” 

“Again?” 

“Going back to a slave master.” 

“Poe told you?” Jess asked, incensed, sitting forward in her seat. 

“No, he wouldn’t betray you. But I’ve known other slaves who’ve gotten out—one way or another. I’ve been around a long time, Jess. I know the tells and was able to put the pieces together,” Kes said calmly. Jess nodded and slowly leaned back in her seat. She pushed up her sleeve and showed him the tattoos on her arm. The paint from Poe’s handiwork still left a shadow of the design over the second circle. She couldn’t wait for it to be covered permanently. 

“How old were you?” Kes asked.

“Eight. Got out at sixteen.”

“How?”

“Race winnings. Bought my way out,” Jess said with a shrug. Before she could stop herself, she started telling Kes about her life—about her family, slavery, racing, and Antilles’s deal. She didn’t tell him in the same detail that she’d told Poe—no one else knew those details—but she told him enough for him to get a picture of what her life had been up until now. She couldn’t say why, but something about Kes Dameron made her feel safe—made her want to talk to him.

“That’s a lot to deal with,” Kes said when Jess finished. 

“Never really had a choice in the matter.” 

“I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s not like it’s your fault,” Jess shot back. She sighed. “I’m sorry—that was uncalled for. You’re just trying to be polite and I’m shooting off at the mouth. I’m supposed to say ‘thank you’ to that, aren’t I?” 

Kes chuckled. “Apology accepted. But I do appreciate your candor, even if it is a little rough.” 

“You’re one of the few,” Jess said and took a sip of her caf. 

“I _am_ sorry all of that happened to you, Jess. I know it’s not my fault—but I wish I could change it for you.” 

“Thank you,” Jess said softly, looking back towards Poe.

Jess could feel Kes’s gaze on her, almost as if he was sizing her up. 

“So why’d you do it?” he asked. “Why’d you risk your life for Poe’s?” 

“In Antilles’s words, I ‘have absolutely no self-preservation instinct.’ But I think it’s a lot simpler than that…” Jess paused and looked at Kes. “I did it because I didn’t want Poe to die.” 

“So it would’ve been better if you died instead?” Kes asked with a frown. 

“I’m not afraid of dying,” Jess said quietly, looking away from him and staring across the field.

“Then what are you afraid of?” Kes asked.

Jess bit her lip and looked up at the brilliant blue sky, willing herself not to cry. “I’m afraid of everyone seeing me for who I am underneath what I let them see. I know what I see in the mirror—some collection of odds and ends parts masquerading as a complete person. And I just…what if everyone else saw what I see?” she asked quietly. “What if everyone knew?”

“What are you afraid of them seeing, Jess?”

“Any of it, all of it,” she choked a laugh. “Would they like what’s underneath this veneer? Or would they hate me, too?”

“Jess…”

“I know. I know what Poe has said and I know what Antilles showed me in my file. I know that on paper, I’m good enough. But up here,” she said, tapping the side of her head, “it’s a different story a lot of the time. I know that I shouldn’t talk about myself like that. And I don’t hate myself. At least…I don’t anymore. I’m working on it, I promise. But after…Gloarten and…Ibanjji…I just…I don’t know how to…fix this!” Jess gestured to herself before she buried her face in her hands.

Jess felt Kes put his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry about ‘fixing’ anything, kid. You’re _not_ broken, but…parts of what you’ve used to keep yourself safe for a long time…they no longer work.”

“So what do I do?” Jess turned her head enough to see Kes from between her fingers.

“You salvage what you can, and you scrap the rest,” he said gently. “And then, you start rebuilding.”

“It’s not that easy,” Jess said, scrubbing tears from her face.

“Hell no, it’s not easy at all,” Kes agreed. “I know that. But I promise you, it’s worth it.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve done it,” Kes said. “I was at war when I was Poe’s age. Lost my wife when I had an 8-year-old kid. Almost lost my son when he was a teenager. My story isn’t the same as yours, but I do know what it feels like to not know how to fix yourself.”

Jess took a deep breath and nodded. “So how did you do it? How do I do it?”

Kes smiled. “You find something solid—something that holds up. And you use that as your foundation to build your life on. I’m not gonna lie to you, it’s hard work, but creating a life you love…it’s worth it,” he finished softly.

Jess looked at Kes, who was staring towards his son.

“He’s a lot like you, you know,” Jess said quietly. “Building a life he loves.”

“He’s the best of both Shara and me,” Kes replied. “And some of that makes him a handful. He’s got a lot of fire running through those veins.”

Jess laughed. “A handful. That’s a good word for him.” She sobered quickly. “So he’s your foundation?”

“No,” Kes shook his head. “You can’t build your life on someone else. People can let you down. They don’t usually mean to, but if you build your hope on a person and they fail you for whatever reason, it will tear you down even further. You need to build it on yourself, on something deep inside of you. Your life—your _foundation_ needs to be built on who _you_ are. I may have only known you for a few days, but I can tell that you, Jessika Pava, are a truly good person. And you are stronger and more powerful than I think you know. You have the people, you have the tools, and you have what it takes to do this.”

“You really think so?” Jess asked, feeling hopeful for the first time since she'd seen the _Schrei_ nearly three weeks ago.

“I know so,” Kes said confidently. “And I can’t wait to see what you build for yourself.”

* * *

Every time Poe came home to Yavin IV, he went to the scrapyard on his first day back and picked up discarded pieces of A-Wings. He was still mad at himself for crashing his mom’s ship ten years before, but he had vowed to rebuild the ship piece by piece. L’ulo had managed to salvage the frame and a few other pieces, but for the most part, the A-Wing Poe was working on wasn’t going to be Shara’s ship. It didn’t matter, though, he needed to rebuild it. For her.

On this trip, however, he hadn’t made it to the scrapyard yet. So when he’d reached a point that he couldn’t do anymore without heading away from the ranch, he wiped his hands off and started towards the house. From a distance, he could see Jess and his dad sitting on the porch together. Once he was a little bit closer, he could hear them laughing. He grinned: he hadn’t heard Jess really laugh in over two weeks. He’d missed the sound.

“This doesn’t look good for me,” he said as he approached them. “You two getting along? I’m in trouble.”

“Your dad was telling me about when you were a toddler and wandered out into the fields,” Jess said with a wide grin. “Something about a charging nerf bull and you trying to stop it by using the Force because you thought you were a Jedi?”

“Oh no,” Poe said.

“Oh yes,” Jess grinned.

“And she mentioned something about drunken Mon Calamari spear fighting?” Kes asked.

“I shouldn’t have left you two alone,” Poe muttered to himself. “You need supervision.”

“I like her, Poe,” Kes said, wrapping an arm around Jess. “She’s welcome here anytime.”

“I knew this was a bad idea,” Poe laughed.

Kes sighed and stood up. “I’m gonna go fix dinner.”

“Need a hand?” Poe offered.

“Na, I got it. You keep Jess company.”

“Sure thing,” Poe said as his father stepped into the house. Poe jogged up the steps and sat down next to Jess with a sigh.

“Hey,” she said with a real smile. Poe looked at her again: it seemed like the last of the edge she’d been carrying since escaping Gloarten had almost disappeared. She looked more like _Jess_ than she had in a week.

“Hey,” Poe said. “Enjoy talking with my dad?”

“Yeah,” Jess nodded. “Kes is great.”

“What’d y’all talk about? Aside from embarrassing childhood stories about me?”

“Just stuff. I told him about what happened before, and he told me how to find a way forward. How he found a way forward.”

“Oh yeah?” Poe raised an eyebrow, wondering how much of ‘before’ Jess had shared.

“Yeah.”

“That’s good,” Poe nodded. “So how’s your knee today?”

“It’s feeling better,” Jess sighed. “How’s the A-Wing? Your dad told me it’s been a long-time project.”

“It’s looking good! I need some parts, though, so I think I might take the speeder to the scrap yard tomorrow.”

“Can I come?”

Poe grinned. “Yeah, of course. If you want to.”

“Yeah,” Jess nodded. “I think I do.”

“Great,” Poe said.

“Is there a place we can get this taken care of, too?” Jess asked, indicating to the tattoo on her arm.

Poe nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure we can get that done, too.”

“Thanks.”

“Did dad tell you that one of the nerfs is due to give birth? Might even happen before we have to leave.”

Jess raised an eyebrow at Poe. “Eww.”

“Oh, come on! You’re a farm girl. Surely you’ve seen the miracle of birth,” Poe teased.

“ _Farm_. Not ranch,” Jess emphasized. “We didn’t have any animals.” 

“I bet Dad will let you name it,” Poe offered.

“No, thank you,” Jess said, sipping her caf. “You shouldn’t name your food.”

“Ten credits says I can get you to change your mind.”

“About what?”

“About seeing the calf be born.”

Jess smirked. “Easiest money I’ll ever make. You’re on.”

Poe laughed and stretched his arms over his head before leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “We’ll see about that.”

Jess smiled and looked out over the field. “It’s so peaceful here,” she said, changing the subject.

“It is,” Poe agreed.

“I can see how you didn’t fit here, though,” Jess continued. “How it felt too small for you.”

Poe shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s still home. And I miss it sometimes. It’s nice to come back for a visit.”

“Thank you,” Jess said quietly, “for bringing me here. This has been…this has been so much more than I ever thought it could be. I feel like I’m almost me again.”

“That’s good.”

“Is this what home is supposed to feel like?” Jess asked quietly.

“What does it feel like?” Poe probed.

“Like I can just be here. That there aren’t any expectations of me. Like I’m allowed to just exist without trying to be something more. Like…like people care about me just because I’m here, not because of what I can do.”

Poe nodded. “Yeah, Jess. That’s what home is supposed to feel like.”

“I haven’t felt like this since I was a little kid. Didn’t know if I ever would again. I just…thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Poe said. “We still have nine days left, so maybe you shouldn’t thank me yet.”

Jess grinned. “You’re right—your dad has so many more stories to tell me.”

“Introducing you two was a bad idea,” Poe groaned.

“I think it was inspired,” Jess grinned. “I like him.”

“I can tell you that the man adores you. I’m pretty sure he’s ready to adopt you as his other kid,” Poe said. “You’re a lot like him, you know.”

Jess quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Both,” Poe said with a smirk. Jess laughed easily—something Poe hoped she never lost again.

The two of them sat in comfortable silence, watching the whisper birds as they hunted for field mice and snakes.

“Hey, Poe?” Jess asked after a while.

“Yeah?” he turned his head to look over his shoulder at his friend.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“A few times during the…disaster that was last week, you said ‘always for you.’ You said you’d tell me about it later. It’s later. So what did you mean by that?”

Poe rubbed the back of his neck and looked across the field to the A-Wing. “That was something my mom used to say. She would tell me ‘always for you.’ It was a promise that she would do anything or be anything for me. She never wanted there to be a question of if she was on my side because she wanted me to know that everything she did was always for me. And so that’s my promise to you—I’m always for you.”

“That’s a really big promise.”

“I’m a big promise kind of guy,” Poe grinned.

Jess bit her lip for a second. “I don’t know if I can accept that kind of big promise…”

Poe sat up straight and looked at Jess. “Jess, you don’t—"

“Not without it being a two-way thing,” Jess interrupted him. She turned to meet Poe’s eyes. “I only want you to say it if you mean it, but…I’m in, Poe. This…friendship or whatever we want to call it…I’m all in. Cause if you’re willing to promise that you’re always for me, then I’m willing to promise always for you.”

Poe grinned. “Hell yeah, Jess. I’m in. Hundred percent. No question.” He wrapped his arm around Jess’s shoulders and pulled her close. “You’re not alone anymore, J,” he said.

Jess leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo. And we're done with this episode of "Linked by the Universe." 
> 
> I pulled a lot of Kes's characterization from 'Poe Dameron: Free Fall', which is a really fun read. It doesn't totally fix the spice runner thing, but it gives it more substance than the poorly-executed plot point in the movie does. 
> 
> I also hope this doesn't come across like 'magically she's all better'. But she does have the support system and the tools to get better. 
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR STICKING WITH ME! This was a long story, but I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it. 
> 
> The next story I'm going to post is going to be Resistance-Era, where Jess is much more confident in herself and gets to be more of a badass. Plus, I miss Niv and the rest of Black Squadron. I'll start posting that story on January 16th, in 2 weeks. The title is "What an Honor. What an Injustice."


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